The WITCH saga, part 1: Phobos
by NotQuiteNorm
Summary: Happy Birthday Will, part 1: Posted. Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to w.i.t.c.h. or Disney...yet. ;)
1. Prologue

_Dust. It stretched for miles as though the air had been born with such an illness. It was incurable. The substance thickened the world like a tnsion, sneaking through one's fingers with the ability to fill and destroy a mother's lungs. His eyes could be compared with mercury, watchingthe dust fall carefully. After so long, he could see each flicker as the dust danced and frollicked across the sky. It was disturbed though, to the sae beat as the thunder that never ceased in rumbling. It was as though a single loop of time kept recurring in his mind. Perhaps they had sent him to Cavigor. It could easily have all stopped long ago, and only the young prince could still hear it now._

_And in his mind, the heavy clacks of distant, silver boots as they hit the ground matching the way the dust was disturbed; thrown further up into the air once again. Not that he could know that his men made the sound. The prince knew nothing from here, of what was away from the clarity of his beautiful possessions. The resounding wail had long since silenced. Gone. And the world outside was made of ash and the scent of burning bodies had started seeping into the walls anyway. There were fires going on outside maybe, but he was protected in here._

_He wished that he could see._

_He never moved, Phobos. No one would be able to know if he stood for a year at his window. He wanted to see. There was nothing that wasn't his, he was sure of it. But what was the point in an invisible empire. An empty world._

_Phobos' fingers glazed silently over the window pane. Wondering what was out there._

_He wished that he could see._

_The rain fell like icy shards through the undetermined darkness; harsh winds blew the dust and glassy sands to slice through sin. It's force threatened to blow all that cowered on the hard, unforgiving earth beneath and wailed out through what was neither day nor night._

Magic was a powerful thing by namesake, and in purest form was a Godly gift passed generously through life as a lover for the universe. But then came Yang - the deepest black that almost always reached the eyes of the truly alone: creeping up on those begging for lost souls - a magic that required soul in a means like no other alchemy. A forged potion and spell that took the name of the undead. All knowledgeable in this aware that, the undead as a mythical creature were of course based on a frightening truth.

Black magic that rotted not the skin, but the way that one's heart beat; that did not allow the body to frail, but something more mortal. The lurching dead man was not the fate of those that dabbled in black magic, but rather what would magnetise to them to create a madness in their desperation for live beauty.

It cost a fraction of your soul to create _lifelike_... And no one has been brave enough to create _life__._

_Worse still was the fire boiling inside her; if she wasn't frozen from fear of the elemental offenders, she'd be writhing as her skin burned inside out._


	2. Halloween

"Wilhelmina Vandom." The words caused a spark, like lightning into the hazel eyes being studied at that moment with a belittling frown. The voice was shrill, yet had the croaking gargle that a toad might be expected to make. The brown eyes in question settled on the swollen nodule that was supposed to pass as this woman's throat, before they guiltily ventured down. _Wilhelmina Vandom _felt herself grow warmer, taking in the bulky woman's frame. She had a fairly rounded figure, which was very certainly bottom-heavy, and it had been fastened and presumably wedged into a dark blue jacket and pin skirt that oozed out the kind of authority that caused the youth of Heatherfield alike Wilhelmina to feel appropriately uneased. "Am I correct?"

Excluding her width, the woman's good posture hardly helped with her being undeniably short - except that Will was shorter. And undoubtedly thinner: though Wilhelmina had gulped that she was lost, she hadn't heard what had been said to be followed by a thick hand on her shoulder - thin and brittle next to the broad set in a padded 'woman's suit jacket' that was weaving her around a corner and past various doors. The hazel eyes couldn't help wander through violently blood red strands of her messy bob to her rector's pin-sized black eyes, behind thin lensed glasses that spoke only of the woman's seriousness. It seemed as though wrinkles should be in place on this woman's face, but instead there was a plumpness about her that almost led the young teen to believe her peer might be quite young. "How old are y- I prefer Will."

Will had stammered to correct an obvious mistake at the speed that the beady eyes had been in contact with her own large brown ones' focus, making the girl nervously look instead down at the ugly blue dress-suit, then up at the great piling beehive of grey hair atop of this peer of hers' head. Her eyes didn't dare follow the thick hands path as it stretched outwards to this large woman's side until she spoke. "Miss Vandom. Your class."

And suddenly the held breaths and stunned expressions of 30 pairs of eyes became apparent, causing Will Vandom's back to crack a little too attentively again. A spindly, tall figure with a blue knitted jumper and strawberry blonde hair to match his bushy moustache and suede elbow patches seemed unsure of who's eye contact to make. The 40-something year old man pushed a dangerously dwindling piece of chalk that could hardly be called a piece, down against the edge of the chalkboard. "Principle Knickerbocker..."

"I'm sure you have assigned Miss Wilhelmina Vandom a seat." Will winced at the re-emerging sharp tone in the principle's voice and felt an understanding as to why the younger African descented girl had fled. The one person who'd braved entering the corridors at such a late hour other than Will herself. Who'd of course, it would be fated, been caught late on the first day by the Kaiser, probably a half hour late for class-_RRRRrrrNNNggG!_

_The bell rang. _Maybe a little more than an hour.

"Not that it would appear to matter whether you had."

Will guiltily turned, but in the moment the woman had gone, and Will found herself alone and vulnerable amongst a crowd of heads and bodies gliding past her... And _into_. She groaned as heavy arms shouldered her; the unconcerned and dead-eyed students altogether trying to walk through her awkward attempt to stay standing, until she finally caught herself- and her breath at steel blue eyes squinting mercilessly... Through long ruler blonde strands... And another pair of curious greyish was all she saw in that glimpse- gone in an instant. Will jerked, startled, as she found herself being forced against the lining of lockers that coated the school's hallways. It made her wonder how big Heatherfield actually was, because her mother had used the term _'quaint' _to describe it when she finally suggested moving. Not that it hadn't been a noted consideration of Susan Vandom's for about two years beforehand - possibly longer than that. Will hadn't been keen on leaving her home, not that she'd have had much choice if she'd declined her mother. She was almost sixteen, which she had constantly mentioned was pretty much classed as adulthood, but unsurprisingly Will was still stood in Sheffield Institute for apt young minds in Heatherfield. And within two hours she'd managed to get someone's gum on her hands. "Ugh.."

**...**

Cornelia Hale did not appreciate vulgar behaviour that disrupted her classes. The obviously eighth grader - with fire coloured hair that couldn't be natural and the rough size and form of a seven year old - had _slid,_ in fact_skidded _mud and grime past her classroom door at no less than 9:15 in the morning, creating an awful squeak of friction against the unpolished lino floor and stealing the focus of her presentation of the Hallows Eve Ball organisation right as she flashed the slide from proper funding to themes and decoration.

The Hallows Eve Ball she had been planning for three months, which was ultimately twice as fantastic as any idea or attempt of a plan that any girl other than Cornelia could create had she been dreaming of this date for a lifetime. The biggest feature of course being the gigantic model pumpkin that Principle Knickerbocker herself had requested be the focus of the night. Not to mention the thankfully decreased parental organization and monitoring due to the Hales happening to donate the PTA a charitable evening at one of Heatherfield's finest restaurants downtown.

And if one thing impressed Cornelia Hale less than the rude introduction she had faced of this minor, it was finding out that this minor was not a minor at all. The blonde scowled at the thought of Elyon - her truest of friends and the youngest _exceptional _member of the prom and formal committee - pointing back at the waif of a girl and informing her that the wild cherry red hair and stick thin figure was that of a fifteen year old girl. Wilhelmina Vandom could easily be a week or year younger than her. And if their classes should so-happen to collide, the wretched account of a female form should watch her steps. "Elyon."

Grey eyes that somehow never ceased in looking wonder-struck sought Cornelia's and her dirty blonde eyebrows furrowed. Cornelia only raised her own brows and shot a look at the face-to-match-her-hair grunge model as Wilhelmina chewed the majority of her lip thoughtfully. Thinking of a place to sit that wasn't also drenched in the stink of bleach and ..._urination__._ Sheffield Institute could blame the perverted criminal Uriah Dunn for the three broken toilet bowls in the female lavatory. In much the same sense as Uriah, this girl didn't belong here.

"What do we know about her?"

**...**

She arrived yesterday. Yan Lin's granddaughter would undoubtedly pass within meters of her fate today and never know about it. An ancient prophecy was unfolding and the aged Chinese woman Yan Lin had spent a vast amount of her 84 years waiting for it.

_"Xīwàng wǒmen jièjiàn;"_The blackest of eyes softened as they closed in prayer; a strand of pink fragrance drawing round her as the incense burned peacefully. The background chatter of the restaurant upstairs fading to nothing in Yan Lin's ears as her heartbeat echoed through her. _"Hope, be drawn upon us all."_

**...**

There was nothing to prove that the mindset of the _'dark prince' _was in those eyes, but he was certainly a ruler. The young man's silvery eyes glinted with something that echoed regal nature, and there was a way about him that drew in your attention; something that the painter must have spent a fortune of time capturing. Pure and almost white strands of hair made the man striking and Taranee didn't often glance at her textbooks' illustrations._Prince Escanor _had been thought of as insane. He spent his days as a child always grasping a stone that he'd claim was full of secrets... and was well known for disappearing without a trace. It was that that created rumours of him being tainted and Taranee sympathised with the poor child of the past; the dark age was truly that when a teen was accused of witchcraft for carrying a- "You set me up."

The African-American's dark eyes shot to the source of the voice, forgetting the diamond pendant hanging from the neck of the painted figure; the beads that were strung on the few long strands of her dark elfin cut jingled slightly. It was the girl from this morning. Taranee had walked almost straight into the fierce _Wilhelmina Vandom _taking the wrath of the principle whilst Taranee pressed herself into the wall around the corner, praying they didn't come her way. Taranee knew there was only one chance and took a deep (and hopefully subtle) breath, looking up at her accuser and the disturber of her happy lonely lunch. "...I don't know what you'r-"

"Bullshit." Taranee's eyes widened and the jelly of her sandwich covered her fingers as her hands clenched at the language. She realized as she held her breath that she might be the only person ever intimidated by the massive brown eyes glaring at her, but this girl was totally unpredictable. Something proven when she... sat down and started to eat. The quiet of the empty back room made Taranee think of her first day and trying to meet the people in her classes; the way this girl suddenly couldn't look up from her interesting lunch. "So, um. Will- I'm Will. What's your name?"

A small smile was hard to hide from Taranee's dark lips, but she didn't dare look up either. Will.

**...**

"P-Prince Escanor." A pale smirk was hard to hide on his of thin lips as the elderly man quavered, holding his loudly clinking tray of whimsical potions. He was claimed to be a healer; something the right hand of the Prince Phobos had never had faith in. But then, Lord Cedric had no need to. The Elderly man turned now to him. "My L-Lord."

"_Hssss!_" Cedric scowled, but didn't the smirk grow on the Prince's hundred faces. The elderly _wizard _gasped loudly and coughed his fright, before shaking his head and turning away from Lord Cedric's lengthly, forked tongue. What was a magic man doing looking surprised by his Prince's fine work. Whether it be the filthy eath-creatures he used as eyes or the Lord himself. Lord Cedric admired his reflection in the long windows; filled and reflective due to the black blue sky behind it. His green shaded scales fading back to soft, peachy skin as fast as they had summoned. This room was no place for his animalistic side, with it's thick maroon silk curtains, and shined marble floors beneath a jungle of humanoid forms made of dirt. The small dark shadow of a child was barely visible from around the doorway._She_ had a tendency to lurk where she wasn't invited.

Cedric invited himself out. As uninterested as he was he would later be surely told again of any news, and the lack of finding himself being stopped, the Lord knew he had permission. "Th-the princess.. She's-"

* * *

They had a plan. Vathek frowned, reminding himself of the fact, considering the flaws that he dared not speak of. He glanced at his hands. The thick, leathery blue skin stretched paler as he clenched his meaty fist; nervous of the unknown world he was about to be treading. He'd heard Lord Cedric: _This is Halloween. _The meaning unclear, but he wondered the penalty for crossing the bridge into uncharted territory. In Meridian it was having each of the seven layers of his skins peeled back from his chest or head and having his body manipulated so that pain and over-riding lack of control was to be followed for hours, by being left, forced to live on under the rule of the King. As whatever had forged over to heal your skin. Vathek had not seen a _whisperer, _but his thick squarish finger touched the rocky features protruding from his collar, that mingled with a soft substance that never felt quite solid and worked it's way up and around his head. He'd been attempting a kidnap then too. Different Escanor.

But there it was: the one think that held more fear than the Prince himself. It made him winced and grimace at the light and yet he could not turn away. His Lordship came to his left from behind him - wearing the same long robes that Vathek had not seen Lord Cedric wear to Earth before. Whatever he was usually doing, this was not it. Vathek gently shook his head and spoke gruffly. "Why haven't you taken her before. What were you doing."

"Stabilising." The snakish voice was soft as silk, barely a mist of sound as it always seemed to be, and the serene perfect humanoid lips smirking as they always seemed to be. But Vathek knew the Lord was scared. Everyone feared something and Lord Cedric was almost certainly afraid of the Prince. The scales up his neck let Vathek know the man had already been impoverished before the King had built him into what he'd wanted him to be. The black hole didn't look stable at all; in fact it looked more volatile than the dark Prince could ever have been, not that he had more than imagination. Shots more elemental than lightning bounced out of the fabric of the universe - which as he understood was burst at the seams and this what was left - and surged a tunnel that appeared to never end. A haze of blues and nudes and whites and Vathek wondered then if it had no colour and was simply reflecting. Despite his shallow breaths his Lordship outstretched a hand. "Shall we?"

Vathek swallowed and squeezed his eyes tight, picturing what could lurk on the other side on the night of hurt and pain and horror. _This is Halloween.  
_

_**...**_

"It's _Hallow's Eve_." Deep blue eyes glimmered playfully under the blacklight: orange and blacks flashing across the hall and revealing crowds of freakish ghouls and ghosties writhing and jumping around to the music; throwing and hitting balloons in the air; pulling streamers from the walls and looking for corners of the room without prying eyes of supervising adults. Plastic masks and pointed hats crunched under the feet of those discarding them as the temperature raised, unheard under the shrieks and laughs and howls and pounding vibration of music. The Halloween party was a smash hit and everyone was enjoying it.

The founder, Cornelia Hale had curls down to her waist, falling beautifully past and around her shoulders and framing her face. Her silky pink top and purple skirt paired with a tiny set of flawless wings that were perfectly suited to her fairytale poise. And Elyon looked as good, though not quite as elegant with green ribbon vines and leaves wrapped round her arms and strung through her hair, she made the perfect elf. Her short emerald dress and dolly shoes simply adorable in the midst of bloody corpses and giant blue ogres that filled the room. Hay Lin frowned at what must've been some latex job, seeing her 1st prize costume as a bundle of rags in comparison to the great hulking beast that just missed grabbing the arm of that red head girl. A thin whisp of a man, young but at least 18, briskly backhanded the other kid's arm showing about the same level of amusement as Cornelia with Irma, shaking his head, his face flawless, but obviously unimpressed considering the thin line his lips drew into. Hay Lin found herself doing the exact same backhand - with a little less anger and a little more speed - to whichever of the girl's was next to her, and Elyon turned to her as Hay Lin's heart fluttered. "L-Look, he's- he's-"

"Who-hnng." Elyon sighed as Hay Lin's large black eyes glazed over the red line of make-up covering his eyes like a mask; his long thick overcoat, and turtleneck robes that he wore beneath. The group in fact had all started gazing at him, stunned. There was just something about hi- "Oh jeeze did that girl just faint?"

"She probably hasn't eaten in a couple years." Hay Lin found herself swallowing the uncomfortable feeling she got hearing Cornelia murmur and Elyon snort. She'd been feeling it alot lately and Irma, she felt, knowingly squeezed her thin arm from behind. They'd all felt something splitting them recently; age, Irma said, but Hay Lin just tried to shake it off. It was a stage. Her Grandmother said that she felt Hay Lin shouldn't worry too much - that fate would only separate her to bring her to greater things. Hay Lin watched Taranee Cook from mathematics help the red head up, the guy who'd obviously planned on going for it backing off. Greater things...

**...**

Cedric's eyes flit across the room, watching the flare of red as she made her way outside. He made a face, trying to ignore the stench of power filtering through the room like footprints of where she'd been all night. It was far too good an opportunity to waste; the Prince would have no idea. "Seize her. I want her brought also."

"But my Lord-" Sharp blue cut the beast like a blade and twisted as he held his breath. Cedric could see her majesty in the corner of his peripheral vision, dainty, but ultimately plain which made him wonder about the legends of the Prince. How could anyone be sure if he was beautiful. Cedric smirked, his fingers clenching, breathing cool air into the warm room from his nose.

He pat the greasy oaf and began through the crowd, "How can we be sure which is the one."

And with that Vathek had began moving along, Cedric pressed his fingers easily onto the backs of these children, his eyes on the Queen like she was magnificent. But in fact she wasn't, she was dim, she had been far too far from magic to be bright and it was the crown jewel that held the gist of the power, not this waif. It was residue, a family trait she wouldn't be able to pass on, unlike - he supposed - her mother's flaming hair. He smiled as the corner of her lip lifted, her fingers wiggling nervously at his approach as though he was the greater power.

He stood facing her as she edged toward him. Asking if there was something he wanted, if he was lost. But he just let his eyelids laze over his cool gaze, silence hitting the air and even he pursed his lips a little to stop a grin. "I suppose I should wish you the best for turning fourteen. I was wondering if you'd be interested in a walk."

It had been as simple as that, he knew, bending his arm which she blushed and took graciously. He'd wanted to leave the wretched noise and mindless bodies since the moment had arrived and wondered why he'd bided her time. Looking past the children shrieking and playing it was obvious that she'd been ill educated. This was no queen, but a child. As they stepped outside his eyes crept to the two girls at the other side of the courtyard. A microphone echoed out something of a costume and a steadier flow than the quiet few already sat outside came flooding out, a clock striking for the first time in the distance. There was no sign of Vathek as wails and screams filled the night, his hand wrapping around hers and dragging her through the chills and crisp air; the dancing breeze that dismissed the interruption they had caused. Tonight was the night.

* * *

_'HALLOWEEN HALLOWEEN'_

"LET'S HEAR IT FOR THEEEEEE PRINCIPLE'S DECISION! THE BEST COSTUME HAS BEEN DECIDED! AND THEN WE'RE GONNA LIGHT THE FLAMING PUMPKIN!"

_'HALLOWEEN HALLOWEEN; HALLOWEEN HALLOWEEN'_

Vathek found himself being carried by a crowd of dozens of people, pushing past a screaming brunette that yelped out the name Martin and grabbing the thin waif of a boy just as he slipped from Vathek's tight grasp, replying to her unconcerned voice yelling behind her, '_You toad!'_ by transforming; Vathek peered back at the surprised looking frog between crowds of feet, wondering exactly how many species on Earth could transform or whether he had perhaps slipped from the portal since it had opened too. People laughed and chanted loudly, clapping as someone's name was stated by a far older wench, he growled as their eyes fell to him, realizing perhaps they had been caught he pushed away from them seeing someone approach. He threw the goblet eventually they handed him before they could fill it with poison and pushed past their hysterical reaction. "ALRIGHT, WHO WANTS TO LIGHT THE PUMPKIN!"

Vathek sighed when he reached the edge of the crowd, his eye catching the thing he'd lost the second he'd attempted to follow her. There was no time for subtlety, he- "What do you mean FIREWORKS!? URIAH WE'RE ALL GONNA-"

**...**

Chaos crashed like thunder and emerald eyes shot to the erupting volcano of flames; a dark tone cursed out from dry lips as the figure slid from his shadowed, unseen corner, rushing through the turns and twists of the rooftop; he flew down onto the hard slabbed ground, his knees bending him to crouch protecting his body. He turned to get past the wedge of two people, but suddenly it became harder as people were running: running in every direction.

His eyes never lost her though. The barley hair that blew in messy braids and almost reached his opposite side, she turned to the source of explosion behind him and his heart beat a little faster; his feet almost stopping at the sensation of her looking at him. But then something flew to his left and exploded again. It was a new form of gunpowder, or a magic he didn't know. Screams filled his ears and only then did he look back to- "Him!"

The blue _bengermoil _was marked as Meridian's. His entire body being thrown at a skinny chil- His eyes had been trained to never miss a thing and he wasn't sure whether he was glad he didn't. Something crashed and burst into flames next to the monster causing him to let go and the girl fell to the ground, she turned and ran and he wondered... The red hair was unbelievable for a mortal and he- He could see the rocket flying right at her. This hadn't been part of his plan.

**...**

Will turned and felt her heart stop. A blur of screaming and the faces of unidentified monsters around her; someone shouting out her name as the world slowed down. It was hard to determine the size, and it was probably fear that was making the rocket launching in her direction look so huge. She stopped breathing. Her heart stopped beating. The world was ending around her. It was all going so slow and she just...

Gasped as the young boy jumped between it and her; he threw what she swore was a blade- a sword in the air which the rocket hit and flew in another direction bursting into flames as he swore and dropped the very real looking... And then he turned and she felt all the blood rush to her ears: her heart must've been beating again. His eyes were raw and green, cutting into her soul with the concern and fear and she wish her lip would stop trembling. His chiselled face tense beneath his tousled brown hair; her eyes dragging down the thick jacket swamping his body to the hilt of the sword on the ground. He must've noticed and he bent to grab the thing. "I hope you're happy now."

And then he was gone.


	3. It Begins

The Guardians of the Veil had been forged and broken decades ago, but almost all lived on. Hay Lin pulled at her long band of hair, threading ribbons through to dance with the crow black strands that went as far as her knees if she bent down a little. She always liked that her Grandmother told the story as the background guardian: she danced with the wind like it danced with her own hair now, rather than taking it upon herself to burn the villains to the ground or move the entire earth at her will.

It was as though her Grandmother longed to be part of something excitement but feared disruption of peace when she told her these stories as a child. She used to say she'd been meant as a teacher, not a fighter; that her time was coming. Hay Lin never asked how it came to be that two had come to their death, but it had been an abrupt end to the stories and Hay Lin wondered if maybe it was because after they reached that end she started visiting graves. Well, it was one grave, but Hay Lin had only been young and still recognised that there might be a reason wise Yan Lin had fell upon stories. It had taken up till now for her Grandmother to seem truly with purpose: she and her mad little grandma setting up tea for her guest who was coming. "Grandma, who is coming?"_  
_

"It's a good surprise, little Lin, I promise," Hay Lin's eyes followed the woman's around the papery screens between them and restaurant, which was open far too early but had still managed to house Mrs Rudolph from mathematics for a cup of tea and a few others for the same sort. The elder woman winked at her and smiled; she was plump and had streaky blond wisps still growing from her greying hair; she wore dark tinted glasses throughout the year and the same dark pink pin-skirted suit every day at school, with minor changes that Hay Lin complimented often to razzle Irma who would be hiding under her desk with her unfinished homework. She was alot different from her Grandmother, who wore dozens of long floating qipao', always with long floating scarves wrapped around her and even sometimes one of her most beautiful fans hung from her waist. She always wore her banner dresses loose though, despite it accentuating her frail bony wrists, which would be covered by a maze of blue veins when she carried now just a pot of tea to the table. "Though, I doubt she will be expecting us."

* * *

Wilhelmina Vandom swallowed, letting the hot tea hit the back of her throat before it was ready, just trying no to look at the owner's daughter who sat eagerly grinning in front of her. She'd been asked if she was alright and for once in Will's life she didn't know how to answer a question. So she just went with her instinct and looked up into the large black pupils, eager to know if it had been fear that crazed her into exaggerating, "Do you think I should be dead?"

She winced at her own words, recalling the feeling of removing her singed black dress, and seeing the same uneasiness in the little girl as the smile fell and she began fiddling with her long, unbelievably long pigtails. The elderly woman serving the tea eyed them carefully as she let go of a tray of china cups slightly too quickly, not flinching as the girls did at the chink of the cups as they fell together and on their sides. Or perhaps they were porcelain; Will's hazelnut eyes gazed steadily at the chip that fell a couple inches off the tray, just a fragment of the painted blue floral design visible and part of the golden painted rim. It was awfully thin for china and every other aspect of the restaurant seemed to be traditional; beautiful. The gentle scent of a fragrant Chinese tea filling in the atmosphere because it was obviously far too early to eat. Her eyes crossed the sea of patterns; a universe embroidered into some foreign material. Her fingers crossed the body of a dragon in the corner - there was one in each - and glazed the textures of planets and the cosmic weave of blue between them. She wondered if it was to signify the belief of heaven and hell, or perhaps of an alternate universe: she'd never had much interest in history so somehow the Chinese traditional beliefs managed to elude her. She watched a small, possibly _puzzle-box_ be placed carefully in the centre and she held back a hand she'd already reached out to grab it, stunned at herself and unable to form the words to apologise. But the old woman smiled, her waitress was possibly prone to the same sort of thing, "Grandma Lin, shall I-"

"Sit, granddaughter." Will frowned.

"Aren't I supposed to be meeting with-" Will had leaned back in her chair to glance at the woman she recognised from the school; the person she had assumed had called her mother and arranged this weekend meeting. She'd thought maybe the history teacher she'd been supposed to meet - or the maths teacher who hadn't been turning up to class. But where the elder woman sat was only a vacant chair and not even evidence it had been used. The table was clean of any cup or saucer, of even the spill she'd thought the woman had made as she came in. "Weird."

She watched a small gaggle of girls enter the place looking for... Will turned to the black haired girl who sat twiddling her thumbs and fidgeting. Wanting to leave. "Hay Lin, do you remember the stories I mentioned this morning?"

The girl nodded unwillingly, her cheeks flushing slightly, her eyes trying to look through the thin paper screen at her friends.

"I'd like to introduce you to the Keeper of the Heart." Will waited, wondering both what was going on, why she had to be a part of it, and who they m-

"Me?"

The little Chinese girl's head bobbed up so fast that Will feared her minuscule thin neck might snap of shock: of shock that her old lady was rambling by the look on her face. "Oh Grandmama..."

"What did you call me!?"

Will didn't know whether to be offended, apologetic, or just feel plain pity for the woman. But the woman was past her sell by date - had obviously lost a few screws in the hundred years she looked like she could have lived - and just smiled like they were over reacting. "A greater power outside of time takes care of the universe's balance. But they can need help - until I join them and sort things out!"

The woman murmured a chuckle to herself, but Will suddenly felt an uncomfortable prickling over her skin. This might not be Fadden Hills, but she'd heard of loonies killing their kids and committing felonies in tribute to their beliefs.. She sipped her tea, then spat it out thinking of what might be in the strong concoction. The woman looked at her and smirked.

"Guardians. To help protect people from disruption." The woman's tired bones for fingers touched the dragons, just as Will had, and Will fisted her hand as her shoulders tensed. Her eyes barely meeting those of the elder woman; as black as her Grandaughter's, but full of...belief. "Young women, for their empathy. And for their strength."

"Gra-" The woman turned to the girl raising a finger, like a child in elementary.

"Don't tell your father that that's why I wasn't as keen on a son." It was a joke, but Will didn't hear it that way. The old woman brushed her Granddaughter's cheek. "I always knew you were coming, little one. And you."

"I don't think you're..." Will raised her hands defensively, the pair staring at her; one with purpose and the other inquisition. She kept eye contact with the teen her age and shrugged mouthing a lack of anything to do with this. "I don't really know what you want from me... Sorry."

"Want? Child, I have something of yours. Something that has been missing all your life." Will frowned, now looking at the box. If that old woman was about to hand her her dad in a crate of ashes- It was crazy, but she'd almost died here, it wouldn't even surprise her at this point. The woman might be planning to say one of the dragons burnt him to a crisp to make her feel better: her mum would love it if she said that. But she was curious... The woman pushed her hands over the solar eclipse and pushed aside a saucer of sugar while she did so. "The Metaworld was lost to the universe, before Earth was ready to defend itself. It has been and will become my job to _teach you to _defend the wall protecting these Earthly worlds."

"Oh Grandma!"

"OhmyGodshe'sgotaknife." Will felt herself jumping from her seat and backing up. But the Chinese elder held the knife up, facing behind her and slit the paper screen; breaking the pale block colour of red.

"The Veil between our worlds if fragile and tearing. It has become your job to fix it."

Will didn't feel any more comfortable, watching the knife. "I am not the person you want!"

"Yan Lin." The hand dropped the knife back into a fold of her dress and was held out towards Will. "And if you are not, then why are you stealing my box?"

* * *

The child indeed, was not as Yan Lin had expected her, but she had taken the box without noticing; the Heart claiming it's holder. And she shuffled her feet uneasily, looking at the object in her hand quite unable to part with it. Nerissa had eagerly believed and taken the chore upon herself. But then magic was only myth - not completely unknown back then. "Will. I-I'm sorry I stole your."

She didn't cut of, simply stopped speaking. "You could always give it back."

But the girl just slid into her seat and let the corner gently touch the table.

"I- You can finish your story if you want." Yan Lin wondered if there was a reason that the girl might not want to go. She didn't believe the story, and maybe it was the Heart not letting her put down box.

"You have to finish the story." She pulled the box with only a forced ease from the waif of a girl, who looked anything but what she'd been destined to be. Slipping the jewel from the box, it was clear the girl slipped almost out of consciousness, and Hay Lin almost leapt to her side incase she fell. But the girl would manage. "There are traditionally five guardians. You'll have to gather the others."

"Oh. OH." Will had obviously balanced herself and Yan Lin frowned at the attitude she suddenly adopted. Out of fear, probably. The girl just rolled her eyes and threw her hand towards the restaurant. "Great! Well there's a gaggle of three over there! I'm sorted, tell them to get their sewing kits out, we're gonna save the world!"

Yan Lin's eyes widened, following her daughter's friends and dread filled her at the thought of Irma Lair having had been this powerful the whole time. She could not say there was a problem with the quirky group Hay Lin had grown up with, but she'd never have imagined them to...

"Um." The elderly woman breathed as Will faltered. Maybe after all there was some belief, perhaps in the same way it took Nerissa seeing the Heart to know her destiny. "I actually know someone I'd rather do it with. You know- theoretically."

"I'd give her a call." Yan Lin smirked knowing that they'd believe once they saw some of their abilities. But it fell when she saw Elyon Brown leave the store. That left two...

* * *

Elyon waved her goodbye to her friends, and hugged herself as the cool air outside hit her torso. She supposed that they didn't understand that goodbye was goodbye; that when she said she was going to meet her parents to leave the country, she didn't mean the false parents who'd kidnapped her as their own. Cedric had explained everything last night, and she'd stayed late at the bookshop where he worked on a corner of Heatherfield, until her curfew. Showing her the evidence he'd gathered. Proving that he wasn't lying to her. He was young but he worked for her brother. _Her brother. _Someone who shared her blood. He'd said he'd never met her parents, and from his tone she wasn't sure if they were going to be there or not.

But he'd lit the room with the flick of his hand in the direction of a candle. He'd let her in on the unknown of a secret world. A magic she could never have believed. But then he had shown her her own.

Elyon backed into the corner of an alley, her two fingers and thumbs pressed together. Her breath still caught as she pulled them into a diamond, at the meagre, but incredible string of pure white..._magic_... that she'd created.

And everybody knew; well, _anybody _knew. This place wasn't safe for her to live anymore and frankly she felt betrayed. It was sheer fright that let her push away the questions and just accept everything _Lord _Cedric said. He was an important man where he came from, and she was important to her brother. Maybe, maybe if she stopped and thought she would see that this was madness, but at the least she knew that the lack of DNA between her family was true and for that reason she didn't care anymore. No matter what he might do to her, she wanted to risk it. She couldn't stay here anymore. She believed he wouldn't hurt her.

* * *

Irma watched Hay Lin watch her, from an empty corner. The little girl pouring over the table. And Taranee Cook had been dragged into this too, but Irma still knew what Yan Lin could be like. And _Will Vandom, __poor little nobody new girl, _had decided to play along just as they all did at times. Because it was easier to pretend with Yan Lin sometimes, than it was to disagree with the woman.

"_Are you crazy! You just seriously told her we'd be what! Chose us!?_"

Irma was glad to see Taranee Cook still sitting with her, because even she and Hay Lin had been caught up in the craziness of the moment - and Cornelia's eyes - to follow the blonde to the back room: a hall that led upstairs to Hay Lin's. And Cornelia was still scowling whilst Yan Lin and her fought almost silently. Hay Lin sighed unhappily and closed the door after Will stormed out; grabbing her red bike from against the window out front and leaving briskly.

What a load of trouble over nothing.

**...**

The air was like ice this early November; with sparkles of frost coating everything, making an awful crunch under the bicycle wheels as they span faster and faster. It was her fault, that stupid_Hay Lin_'s grandmother was crazy! It was her fault; that her mother had felt she had to move away from their her home. It was all her fault and now she had someone's precious jewellery hanging from her neck!

Will grimaced. She hated winter. She hated her mother. She hated everyone! Why couldn't everything go back to last night when everything was good and the lead guitarist of the school's party's band seemed to wink right at her? Last night everything had seemed to be so- Will flinched as a rocket flew straight toward her line of thought and she pulled down on the breaks, her trainer skidding against the gravel.

Finding herself lost for words at what she'd thought she saw and what she saw now in the window pane of an empty looking bookstore. She'd have sworn she saw wings. Black and pointed with several glassy panels of delicate greens and blues. And a tight fluorescent turquoise and deep royal purple outfit against a curvaceous, feminine body. The turquoise skirt layered over turquoise and lime green tights, that clung to long legs under long purple boots; beautiful, yet leathery and strong, and definitely not firm against the ground nor on a bicycle. She'd have sworn the top would match: purple, clinging only down as far as her ribcage, with long floating sleeves perfectly torn to give the arms free movement. And it covered a chest that Will blushed at, her hand covering her lack in embarrassment, reaching the neck as pullover would, covering it at least a third of the way.

And her face. But older. Wiser. Far more self assured. And how did she know what she'd swear she saw? Because as she looked across the street she saw her oversized grey jacket and her scuffed jeans on the floor. But she knew before she turned that what she peered up to read was _Ye Olde' Bookshop_'s window, she knew that the reflection of the woman would still be there. Now Standing, with her hand fisted where Will's held her bike, and the other against her chest just as Will's was.

She didn't knew what came over her. Panic. Fear.

Will hooked her leg back over her bicycle and somehow rode faster than before. _A tear_. It couldn't be true. It wouldn't be true, but if that decrepit old woman put that much effort into telling them that there was something behind the school by hell she was going to find it. She was insane now, definitely, but there was something about the way that Cornelia _princess _Hale had pointed her manicured nail at _her _that boiled Will's blood and raised her pulse. It wasn't fair. It was _not _fair. It. Was. Not.

Will Vandom's head lolled back before she had a chance to stop her bike from heading right towards the tree.

**...**

Cornelia bore her teeth animalisticly at Yan Lin, who'd thrown a map down in front of them. The old bat was not happy with her and usually Cornelia would care - she'd always been modest and polite to Hay Lin's family, but the thought of doing anything in a _team _with the snotty little brat riled her, nevermind that Yan Lin was claiming some voodoo on them all. "The Heart will reveal where a portal lies, when hung over the map."

"Oh yeah, big whoop." She yawned wondering why Hay Lin didn't just tell her parents her Gran needed to up her medication, but instead she'd sat for the last half hour with her hands hovering over a paper aeroplane. "Jesus Irm-"

Cornelia frowned, looking where the water had hit her from. And then in the direction of Irma Lair who looked like she might wet herself, but - Cornelia thought, uneasily - not out of laughter. "Oh my holy cheeses. I think I did a thing."

**...**

He had been alerted that his sister was coming. Deep cerulean danced playfully beneath the silver of his eyes, reflecting the glistening waters that spilt mischieviously from the join of the antiquated white columns to the ceiling's glassy mosaic tiling. It gushed keenly to the cool marble on which Phobos stood, the moisture being swallowed and nourishing his Whispers. The lively children capered between the stone column structures and their own garden of being; the slender breeze their whispers created forever accompanying him. Prince Phobos had not been alerted otherwise, to what his Whispers had found in the outside forests. He had sent them to watch it; the portal. The striking thoughts he once possessed roaming freely.

Behind the light-hearted frivolity of it all, this vast room that he spent his days in, had gathered dust over time. Their animation did not purge it from the walls; the decaying cracks masked in his floral universe. Light hadn't caught this place in years, but he recalled - or so his mind told him to -the room illuminated, with the brittle walls carefully draped in azure. She bode that his judgement would soon be awry. The amorphous Whispers crowded in his intrigue, peering into the sands thrown aimlessly across the floor. Water dribbled, making the far left of his sands dark and damp. She was made of porcelain and scarlet.

Something was foreshadowing; it made her image unclear, but he knew it - almost recognized her scent. Sweet rose perfumed his inhabitants, but she was distinct and yet indefinite. His lips ached to whisper the source, just as his eyes sought clarity through his whispers.

He needed to know more. His mind was sharp and craved the rational. With a transparent consideration his mind commanded the forest's eyes to be looking at her. His defined, malnourished chest heaving with an anxiousness that he felt clutch at him.

With a wave of two fingers the windows opened and the wind sucked out the dust. His fist hit the cold, hard thrown as his angelic features twisted with a putrid anger.

He would not have them overthrow him. He would not have them destroy his work as he could destroy them. The thankless world beneath him, he felt shudder as he stood by the open window pane. Staring down at his gardens beneath and in the direction of the witch planning to execute him. His snarl dropped and anger faced. His fingers pulling a pile of dusty sand that had caught on the window pane and throwing it to the ground. _Show me.  
_

**...**

She struggled against the ice and fear and loneliness in her lungs, the darkness hardly clearing as she fought for consciousness on her hands and knees. She had grabbed the earth like a hand to hold in her desperation and squeezed her eyes tight shut to expel the dizziness enveloping her. But in her mind a face stared stonily; silver eyes slit through her closed lids and invisible lips whispered, "Quintessence."

Will's eyes flew opened and she screamed. The hollow dirt of the ground had protruded in the shape of a skull; her hand tagling with this creature's roots for fingers that grabbed her forcefully; it was part of a man made of earth, reaching out from the dirt he had come from, and only a hand and the face just inches from hers, but more of them too: tens of them surrounded her. Huge and thinly men surrounding her, appearing made from the foest she stood in. She wrenched her hands from the earth and shrieked shaking off the limp roots that fell easily away then. And then they were gone. Like they'd slunk away back into their trees and grounds. With only that whisper in her mind.

And her quivering lips and the childish tears in her eyes. She'd walked into a nightmare. The ground was flat and the stink of death filled her lungs and she dared not touch any thing incase it seized her. Will's focus came down to the ground. That hollow face. That- And she ran.

Through the trees and grasses and vines, that blurred as she ran faster. Knowing she had gone in the wrong direction: knowing she was lost. But she didn't stop until her eyes caught his face. In the split second of shaking off her tears she heard him. Saw him. With no idea how he'd came to be standing in front of her. Her gaze dropped to his sheath and his hand grabbed it protectively, hiding it. The urge to sniff was unbearable but she stubbornly blinked back her tears instead. What would he ever think of her doing this.

**...**

Silence filled the room at Hay Lin's. That and quiet disbelief. They'd come across a nightmare, and all of them would know that they'd thrown the blame to some new girl who hadn't done a thing. Irma's finger danced in her glass wondering how she'd managed to flick that water at Cornelia. But it hadn't been as funny as she'd thought when imagining it and they all rather just sat down and took it in. "We could tell her on Monday."

"Tell her what?"

Irma frowned at Cornelia's accusitory tone. "You know-"

"I don't know a thing. I didn't see a thing and you didn't _do a thing_! Just go get a reality check Irma."

"Fine."

Irma knew what she'd seen and they all did. Cornelia felt that water hit her face and it wasn't fair for her to pretend she didn't now! It just wasn't fair.

**...**

Caleb couldn't take his eyes off her. A bird had called and her entire body had shaken, but she still developed a stubborn, angered pout that she directed at him. "They came out of the ground and the trees..."

It surprised him. His eyes still flashing around for signs of guards when he heard what she said. Caleb had never thought of Prince Phobos releasing the murmurers, but the forest would be the perfect place. _Snap_. Caleb found his entire body swivelling, before he grabbed the pure white arm and ducked beneath an arrow that hit a tree. "_You little witch! You've blown my cover again!"_

He didn't know why he'd hissed such a thing at her; if she was right they'd known where he was anyway. They'd _always _know where he was. Caleb saw her face drop and tensed as she grabbed his arm, but slid his hand around her. She didn't struggle, he noticed and it took him a moment to realize who she was. He'd thought her the future queen, but Lord Cedric wanted her for the pendant around her dainty neck. He didn't recognize it, really, the pinkish orb, held within a curling silver it could easily be a fake. But he could smell it; most of Meridian had learned to. She had magic bursting out of her tiny fingers and he found himself cursing under his breath.

_She was a witch._

He pulled his sword up, deflecting another arrow - detecting the next with precision and pulling her up the nearest tree. He grabbed an arrow and threw it the second he saw the archer; giving them the impression someone here was shooting back at him. His eyes flit across to the little girl beside him, who'd pressed herself against the tree and her hands against her eyes. "You'll get hit if you can't see when to duck!"

But suddenly he knew he didn't need her too and he peeled away her hand and pointed. "The tear!"

Whatever she was, she wasn't making him any safer and, he thought eyeing her orb, just maybe he could use her for something. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the edge of the branch, "Jump!"

He was surprised that she had and found himself bounding after her; her eyes on the home route and her speed only increasing as she weaved through trees and vines. _She was a pixie? _He didn't have time to consider, her body flying through and somehow he knew that it might be his last chance to-

He stopped dead. His fingers wincing, but hand reaching where the portal had been. She must have created the portal.

**...**

Will didn't understand what she'd done, when she turned and the boy had gone. And the rip and she supposed she'd done her job.

But what if she'd left him for dead? What if she'd closed someone in that wasn't meant to be there?


	4. It Resumes

Caleb had been raised as a purposeful child: he was a foreign entity to the entire universe around him. He was a stunning boy though, with olive toned skin and a slim, muscular physique; with full masculine lips and a strong jawline that could not go unnoticed over the years the man had spent with him. Watching this shadow of their enemy grow up.

It was because of Caleb that they'd been made aware that Phobos himself had suspicion of his own downfall, that he could obsess to the point of forgetting his humane needs. It was a trait that had carried - Caleb was an unfinished diary of the clouded secrets that pressed on their tyrant - once a murmurer, his soul had been carved from that of the prince. Even here only Caleb knew and could obsess over every secret, but while it sometimes comforted, it currently disturbed Aketon. "I could feel it, I knew of it."

"And something tells you you could use it?" Aketon's son didn't understand that a mind from a dark mind might too possess such a thing as a sinister thought. He had always obliged Caleb's need be it in battle or a search for answers. But Aketon had known exactly what this boy was looking for, his fingers tracing Caleb's precise illustration. Though he did smirk perplexed at the boy's insistence that the species would have a connection with large eyes - it wasn't often that such a pitiful thing as a feature would grasp his attention. He could imagine Caleb's denial of possibly being unnecessarily perceptive; that there simply couldn't be no connection to her magic and the shape of this woman's eyes. "You said this girl was a child, I doubt it her magic at all."

Aketon frowned, trying to figure how to convince Caleb not to pursue this. The young male was bright, with bright eyes to match; that changed from intrigued, clearing emerald to solemn ivy like leaves changing seasons. His firm expression stubborn and sure, like he never seemed not to look. Caleb was never not wary in all his life, knowing in the end their last enemy was him. But just like Phobos, Aketon supposed Caleb intended to take care of that too. A boy who Aketon admired for graciously taking his due burdens on his shoulders.

"But Aketon, I need to find her."

The words were something this ageing blacksmith never expected to hear in his life.

**...**

Thomas Brown was a fairly timid character; both of the couple were. It was his wife who's voice filled the room now though, her gentle sobs breaking the tension between the three of them. "My Daughter is missing and you want to let things lie low!"

"What about her brother!?" Thomas frowned at Galgheita, who had pressed a pair of glasses up her plump pinkish nose. She wasn't taking their fears seriously enough; calmly swirling a milky biscuit in her cup of tea, despite the fact that they were all aware of how close to coming of age Elyon was coming now that her fourteenth birthday had passed, just nights before she'd gone missing.

Galgheita, he knew, would have none of their criticism had they voiced it though. "Children run away. I wouldn't press your concerns to me rather than, now, you both concentrating on going into hiding yourself."

"Hiding!?" Thomas echoed. Galgheita nodded, pushing her chair back and getting up. She walked slowly around her desk as she always did when leading them to the door of her office. He wasn't ready to leave, but he knew she had always been in charge of matters.

"Unless you can create another alibi for Elyon disappearing, people are _going _to start looking for her." He frowned as the round bodied woman bent down to open a drawer rather than her doorway. "I for one do not wish for Earth's police force enquiring as to why I may or may not exist in their precious _'system'_. And I am asking you not to give them a reason to. But you however, will never make it out of an investigation for your own daughter. They will blame you."

"But-" Galgheita's eyes narrowed and he knew the argument was lost. Eleanor Brown stood and didn't say a word as she pushed her way from the room - Thomas often felt that her bond with Elyon's was as strong as a biological mother's would be - but Galgheita turned to him, handing him a familiar box. "Thank you, for everything you have given us."

His fingers traced the triangular and circular patterns engraved on it as he left the room.

"Oh!" Thomas Brown's brow furrowed when the blonde from the year above Elyon backed away from where she'd bumped into his chest. He would have recognised her anywhere: Cornelia Hale. "Mr Brown! Everything alright? Elyon wasn't he-"

"We were just collecting some classwork she'll be missing on our early holiday." He curled his fingers around Eleanor's arm. "Though _some _of her teachers have been less than polite and considerate of our personal decisions on such _family _matters."

He frowned at the girl's lack of interest as he implied Mrs Rudolph as disrespectful toward their life choices, nodding bashfully as she ducked around them, "I better get back to class! They already think I spend too much time fixing my hair in the ladies room!"

And that was that. The simplest lie he'd ever told. And the last they'd ever see of Elyon's best friend. Thomas Brown felt a tugging remorse for the life they'd made, turning away and clasping his hands around the box. It was gone now.

**...**

Cornelia Hale couldn't breathe. She couldn't believe it. Mrs Rudolph was part of this whole Guardian conspiracy. And she had threatened the Browns. And. Cornelia's cheeks flushed with fear and shock from the thought; her best friend had gone missing. Whatever they were trying to stop tearing into this dimension had probably- She didn't know what to do. She couldn't believe it. She shouldn't. "Oh my God."

**...**

Bitter green eyes followed the surface of the young man pacing noiselessly before her. It was a hollow procedure for the Prince Phobos to detect his sister of the alter-Earth, and one of many without rational explanation. The Prince was slender; his merciless features breathtaking, were she to more deeply look at him. His beauty betrayed his means, diminishing Meridian's existence. Miranda, herself, was a token of the Prince's. It exhaust her indifference toward the man, watching him collect a new and more lustrous possession from the last. Miranda was of an orphaned species; one of Phobos' earliest collections being the remnants of his own destruction. The spiteless creature of a male had annihilated the distant universe of all he owned; it caused Miranda to curl her lip in disgust to be in this vivid room, the seductive delusion of a colourful world that Prince Phobos immersed himself in. Watching him tinker with a flower as it unnaturally bloomed, her eyes were like dagggers, cutting beneath the fringe of her pristine black bob. She felt thick, dark hairs starting to prickle below the surface of her skin - a personal favourite of her transformations. When he smirked, knowingly amused, silver rimmed pupils met her gaze steadily. His voice was like the silk spun for a spider's web. "I never did choose to meet my sister."

"I'm sure she's glad of it."

Miranda's eyes widened and her neck became stiff, shrinking back in shock of her own self's loathing. But she knew he'd do nothing. He'd been tormentingly tolerant of her since the day that he'd brought her here. Perhaps he liked that it crawled under her skin - living well by the murderer of the entire Kingdom. It took only hours for Lord Cedric and his forces, under Phobos' order, to destroy her race all but entirely. "Bite the hand that feeds you?"

"Most definitely." Miranda supposed it was with glee that he always spoke with her alone and so intimately. With a twisted enjoyment he'd somehow decided that she was to be one of the few that were endowed with his presence.

"I suppose she will have been." Miranda fought the urge to bite her lip guiltily as the Prince extracted a runaway platinum hair, pushing it behind his shoulder; she stared at his reddish-covered chin, unable to face his eyes. He excelled at creating a sincerity in his gentle voice, "Would you have been glad to never meet me, Miranda?"

There it was. The sickly delivery of his words; perfectly articulated and spoken earnestly. She could never appreciate his awe-toned whisper of her name. It created unpleasant chills over her skin and Miranda scowled, discomfited. "I would be rather glad if an adult ruled Meridian."

She didn't miss that something dropped from his Majesty's ever-enlightened face, but anger still filled her and she let the heavy door slam into his raised voice behind her, "I am to be your King."

**...**

Irma Lair frowned and peered through the lunchtime rush; her blue eyes glittering, eagerly stalking every movement of Taranee Cook ever since fear had turned to excitement, and Cornelia had turned to belief. Today was the day. "Irma, will you look where you're going!"

She pushed her tray along, with her nose in the air at Cornelia's bluntness, but she was actually quite impressed with Cornelia. The brunette smiled sweetly as the canteen staff shovelled their so-called _'health foods' _onto her plate - something her father, the policeman, did not buy into either; _'vegetables'_ - while her peripheral vision noticed the redhead slumping next to Taranee and chewing the inside of her cheek probably nervously.

"Gentlemen!" Irma bowed her head comically as their three trays hit the table, Cornelia quietly petulant and Hay Lin just quiet. Irma rolled her eyes at the attention her loudness had got her. "Is no one else enjoying this even a little bit? I want a cape!"

"Are you seriously making jokes about our-" Irma scowled as Taranee held her words back. Actually, she hadn't been joking. But it obviously wasn't the time to mention that... "What're you even doing here anyway!?"

The round lensed glasses on her cocoa skin quavered and the beads in her dark hair rattled as the young girl shook her head forcefully. It was fear, something that Irma was well past feeling now. Hay Lin finally piped up, "Tara, so you don't like doing magic tricks..."

Irma let the water in her glass swirl, her finger never touching it despite the stirring motion she had been dancing with it. She smiled lazily as Taranee's eyes followed the whirl out of the glass; Irma let it splash back in lifelessly, slamming her fists on the table. "But we still have to save the world! People's lives are in danger!"

As a first class annoyance to Cornelia Hale, Irma recognised the movement of the blonde's shoulders tensing but despite the urge, she was trying so hard not to push anyone.

"You." She pointed finger at Will Vandom; the one and only _'keeper'_, who's apparent power was holding their better powers and closing things. The girl went scarlet in a milisecond and Irma frowned. Why did everyone have to be so nervous? "What's up with you, you're new right?"

"Um..." Irma closed her eyes in frustration. This was not happening fast enough.

"What're you doing tonight?"

"Well I have this thing with a teacher..." Silence, even more than before hit the table - the type that people could feel - the silence of awe and Irma's mouth curled upward against all her willpower. She _wasn't _one of those girls who dated a- She bet it was Professor Collins. She- "I've been asked to meet my math teacher, I think she wants to tutor me... I'm not very good..."

"Mrs Rudolph! You-" Cornelia halted, and sat down despite her shocked expression, returning to her previous silence and not looking at anybody. Irma shrugged at Will and Taranee's confused expressions and silence seemed to fall on all of them. This was not nearly happening fast enough for Irma Lair.

* * *

Irma Lair sat, rigid, with her blue eyes glued on the classroom'c clock. Her fingers drumming rhythmically on the desk; faster than the slow ticks that seemed much louder to her now, despite it not being the first time she waited for the bell to ring. Hay Lin could hear each tick vibrate around her mind, somehow unsettled by the not unfamiliar impatience that her friend expressed. The air felt rank and withered though, almost as though Irma might have something important, and Hay Lin knew that Irma had never considered anything to be a seriously important matter in her life.

When the lunch bell had rung it had come. And Hay Lin had frowned; but she hadn't mastered the art of concentrated listening, finding her breathing far too heavy and wondering if her Grandmother was right to promise her she'd get it. She'd seen what she'd seen though and it wasn't exactly common for Cornelia to pull the brunette aside to talk alone. Leaving Hay Lin to sigh and twist a long strand of hair in a knot when she was left to walk alone with the quiet Taranee. "Hey, Irma?"

The bell rung out and over her voice, but Hay Lin still felt a little disheartened at being left sitting with her mouth yet to close on the 'a'. The rest of the class shuffled by and Hay Lin let her chin sink back into her elbow crease.

"_Hey Hay,_" Hay Lin frowned into her arm, her own voice deeper and heavy for a female impersonation. "_Corn__ish just lost her pastery a bit over my pure awesomeness and wanted to thank me for letting her into my incredible life._"

Hay Lin chuckled to herself loudly, in the way that Irma often would, before her face dropped once more and she slumped out of her seat.

**...**

"You do not expect me to take her." Charlatan eyes that resembled calcite crystals in they're similar shade of a remarkable, yet steely grey blue gazed unfocused in the mirror. Or so they did, until they looked directly into themselves; the Prince Phobos played a smile, without a quiver on his lips as he challenged his whispers. It was said to be a sign of madness, but the Great of the Universe would mention things to themselves. Else there would never be such myths as the "word of Gods".

In truth only he would ever know whom he'd been talking to. He saw his world and heard his world, and until now they might as well have thought him dead. His unsteady gaze caught the pendant printed on his chest; etched directly into the sunset colours that caressed his skin. A warm glow was almost emitted by him when he desired and it was desired if he was not to continue this title in sin.

It was accepted that had he not died, the King had banished himself and thus no longer carried the throne as _'King'_. But what only Phobos felt could not hurt them; not if he corrected the matter himself. His Mother had been his Father's Uncle's daughter and there were strict regulations on a Prince appropriately taking his stand in line.

If there was one thing in which Prince Phobos learnt wisely. Men did not hold great power, but more manipulation over the pure blooded Escanor women who did. Prince Phobos was a successful sorcerer in all eyes but his own. Fraud and illusion. The Mage knew and was she not weak, he supposed she would have corrected him long ago.

Skill was only sizeable to the proportion of...blood.

The thin man's wrists bent forward and curled out, creating soothing ticks, and Prince Phobos' body glazed the surface of the floor until he reached the window; looking out with pain. The effort tasked him so and he could not help studying from his height the beauty of the roses. Black below, but further out a bloody red.

He did not look forward to the meeting of his sister.

**...**

"You can't just overhear a conversation like that and keep it to yourself!"

"I told you!" Irma scowled; her feet stomping heavily as she and Cornelia sped toward the bike rack. Only a few, mostly running, were ahead of them when they walked out the door. Irma relaxed a little, only frowning when she glanced at the pained expression on the blonde's face. "What was I meant to say! Oh I saw Elyon's parents go in and decided to press my ear against the door!? Oh, _yeah_, and I totally want them to think I do it all the time like I'm some sort of-"

"Gossip?" Irma's voice was dry, and Cornelia looked over, unamused. They'd stopped though, infront of the bikes and Irma rolled her eyes, patronising the blonde. "Get your bike then."

Only then, and Irma smirked, did Cornelia look a little confused. "What are you going to ride?"

The sounds of shouts and laughter was louder now, with people walking by at that second; they might as well have just ambled on with everyone else. The ground was wet and already feet were soaking; the sounds of squelching shoes almost carrying above the voices. "You could borrow mine, my dear."

"What!?" Irma whirled. Her head flipping side to side, looking for the only other person who'd not bothered coming back to school since Halloween. Was it any other boy, it wouldn't surprise anyone that a teenager who's parents were always away on business was flunking school. But when it came to Martin Tubbs, well even the teachers knew he must be pretty sick. Rumours had already started, of his voice calling out answers in his classes, and that just in illness, his spirit was left to roam the school. She squinted, looking through the crowd for the boy. "...Martin?"

"Yes, honey?" Irma jumped back and her bulging eyes sought Cornelia's confirmation: he really had just appeared, half an inch away from her. Irma made a noise like a dog who's tail had just been stood on. Martin sighed. "Everyone's treated me worse than ever this term. They pretend I'm not even there."

"Oh... Martin..." Irma's shiny blue eyes stared as Cornelia tried to get something to come out. And then her eyes flashed to the clock and she grabbed the brunettes arm. "Thank you so much!"

Irma, stunned, nodded and grabbed the handles as the boy unlocked the bike, bowing with his arms out. "Oh my, Cornelia-"

Irma jumped, as the remaining bikes crashed together like dominoes, having removed her own bike already and hopped onto it, starting off without her. Irma turned, looking at the startled boy, still amazed and shocked by his appearance. "Um thanks Martin, I'll return it tomorrow."

And with that she left, pedalling fast as she sensed that Will might - even at the slowest crawl - finally be near reaching the bike rack. Irma didn't dare look back at Martin.

"Cornelia... WAIT!"

**...**

Mrs Rudolph's home was a neat terraced building. It lay between an older woman's home, which was occasionally visited, usually by a doctor or nurse on house call; and a young family, who's child screamed through the night until late August due to one of his teeth coming through. By looking either way, the houses looked quite plain: one with bare grass that had grown too long, the other trimmed with a hedge that a man from up the road did for the woman.

The house between was rather well cared for. The teacher had an awful lot of spare time once she had finished grading papers, and her roses were beautiful and full during the summer. The wet grass was trimmed and the bushes had taken a shade of brown, the leaves matching this from her single apple tree swept towards the centre of the tree: she had meant to collect them, but her mind had been elsewhere. The walls had been hosed and the windows were clean, with neat white drapes falling across each pane from the inside of the house.

Though small, Mrs Rudolph's home was one of the less dazzling places that was sought after by those looking for a more affordable home - people on a low income like a teacher's salary. The fact that there were two bedrooms and a large, wholesome living room in the house was only an addition to the thoughts that people had over having their own garden. Mrs Rudolph's heavy hand rested for a moment on the creaking white Iron gate that needed repainted. It always seemed to in the winter, when she'd least like to do it and everyone told her to wait until spring. It did annoy her so.

Galgheita grimaced, pushing open the gate, her steps loud against the wet paves and her mind fuzzy from a long day of children and constant chatter. At least the holidays were coming again fast, but they cut back every year. It was unlikely that they'd let people off on Christmas next year. On New Years eve she was expected to be at a staff meeting. It was because of these things that she almost fooled herself into envying the Brown family. She would much sooner rest in hiding than deal with this Vandom business.

She stopped. The crunch of leaves behind her, she quietly turned her head, then moaned. The woman waved her arms over at the small bird, knowing that it had absolutely been a mistake to put out that feed. Will Vandom was in for trouble. But Galgheita knew well that there would be a portal opening tonight and she thought it might be best to inform them. She'd rather not pass out her secret though. She supposed adults would be better suited for this ordeal. She didn't want any nosy sniffing.

Galgheita fumbled for her key within her letterbox; a seperate thing that hung next to, rather than cut through her door. She then let them drop and turned the handle, pushing open the door. "Who's here?"

The air seemed shallow and icy, unlike the rather milder breeze outside. The settled dust seemed to have been lifted from familiar objects, just as she always suspected they some day would. Mrs Rudolph held her breath for hissing. But worse she feared the rumours of the girl who wandered in webs.

"Miranda?" A small, impish traitor had crossed the veil quite recently, passing information for food and a place to stay. His back was crooked and he had a foul scent that would not leave him, but she suspected that that was just now the price of Meridian. Galgheita's eyes turned to slats, as she heard a creak from above, staring at the roof before a gasping come closer. She felt the cold as though she was being frozen away from; the door itself seemed to push her away from this Cupboard. But Galgheita pursued. Clutching at the handle, she took one last breath.

**...**

Eleanor pushed her breath through parted lips as the slight cold hit her. It was early, but the park was barren with life, bar the toads who's croaks surrounded them. Her fingers felt the cool darkness of the fate she held in her hands; a rhombus with sharp, defined edges that cut like the souls of those who owned it. She closed her eyes tight, pressing tears back much like when they first had used this object. Back then however she was frightened, and it had been Galgheita holding the Escanor' Seal.

She felt the unfamiliar, yet known sensation of prickling on her skin. The cold blowing out on them and sparks flying when she opened her eyes. She gripped her husband tighter and they stepped through. "Hello Eleanor."

"L-Lord Cedric..."

Eleanor Brown dropped her hand and let go of the diamond, kicking it back at the sight of the entire armed force stood attentively before her. Her body stiff as she heard it clink, and echo; falling down something deeper than the ground she'd expected. Lord Cedric did not seem to hear, his head weaving like he had a pain in his neck, that seemed to dry and crack and scale. "Sssurprissssed?"

She couldn't say she wasn't.

**...**

Cornelia looked, disgustedly at the dirty wood and thought of her sweater. The bed was covering a layer of dust so thick it might be supporting it. And she kicked her ankle, scowling when Irma sneezed, hissing at the idiot beside her. "_Quiet! She'll her us!_"_  
_

Irma turned her head in the few inches of space they had, "_Don't be stupid, I think she's stopped looking!_"

"_Oh yes, I'm stupid, Miss Let's Hide Under The Bed._" Cornelia rolled her eyes, but her opening mouth snapped shut at the sound of the doorbell. "_She's here!_"

Muffled noises and strong Masculine voices from below however seemed to argue against that fact, and Cornelia tried to turn into a more comfortable position. The door closed and Cornelia pushed her now grey, pink sweater - but she held still when the bedroom door opened. "Bloody doctor. I'll be surprised if he ever gets the house right!"

She watched the reddish loafers being kicked off of chubby feet and heard the crack of Mrs Rudolph's fingers and then back. The bed creaked as the plump woman sat down above them, and as each leg disappeared, the woman's tights appeared, hanging from the bed beside her. Another creak as the woman lay down, and Cornelia longed to do the same, feeling claustrophobic as the woman moved and made a noise of relaxed leisure. "_Is she going to sleep?_"

Cornelia's eyes widened, and she looked accusingly at Irma who shrugged. But as soon as she relaxed them, her eyes were again bulging open, as there was a creak and Irma shrieked; her head slamming on the bed frame. "_Irma!_"

A single finger pointed, and Cornelia's head turned round. She only then got a glimpse of green feet before two wide, buggy eyes frowned on the scaled green face peering down at them. Cornelia screamed. "Since when was my home declared public!"

* * *

A growling came from parted lips; a light shine glistening on Will's forehead from the assault course of mangled bikes she and the others were trying to untangle. It was as simple as someone obviously having had push them over, but by the time a few people had pulled their own bikes from the mess and just dropped the others it had become a state of handles and bike wheels sticking out at all ends. And there was to be no satisfaction in winning: she'd finally separated hers from the wreckage, finding the red paint scraped across the body and the most obvious suspect cackling at everyone around her. "Uriah you cock-headed pig!"

"Don't flatter yourself," Will fumed, while others looked up, joining with quieter sounds of approval. No one could doubt the pin shaped boy, who looked as though he'd never taken a bath and probably smelt that way if he ever didn't reek of freshly smoked cigarettes. The sickly boy's laugh ceased only for him to form a wheeze of a slimy smile across his speckled, oily face, he was not looking at her face, "though I doubt you could get flatter."

Will felt herself reach boiling point; her cheeks flaring as quiet laughs surrounded her, and Uriah looking purposefully at her chest. No one had missed his comment. She felt her fists clench and her foot stomped forward before a hand gently tugged her stiff shoulder from it's place at her ears. It took her a moment, but Will released her hands and looked a little apologetic, "Could you um-"

She nodded, suddenly focussed again. Will bent down to pull a blue handle from between the two bikes Taranee was trying to pull apart, and the girl extracted her green number; a retro cruiser that wasn't the most aerodynamic, but certainly had a lot more to say than Will's basic model as she glared down at the scratch. "He doesn't deserve the time of day anyway."

Taranee smiled shyly; understanding. It made Will feel a little better then, and she climbed one leg over the ruined bike, smiling despite the attention being on how she was _trying to ignore him_. Taranee frowned, "Good luck I guess."

"Huh?"

"With Mrs Rudolph..." Will's lips parted slightly and she nodded, though in truth she had completely forgotten; when she kicked off, making a U-turn to the address she'd been given.

**...**

It was dark. It was cramped. The floor was damp and there was some sort of a draft that kept the cupboard they'd been apparently shoved into chilled below freezing: Irma might, had she wanted to, even manage to conjure up some snow.

"Mmmf mm-mff." Irma Lair's shining blue eyes glared, betrayed towards her. The brunette wriggled her neck and head to loosen the material around her mouth and gasped when she'd done so. But Cornelia was just glaring directly back and Irma felt her irritation rise up. It had been Cornelia's idea to come and now Irma was getting blamed. She hissed, hoping to make her point once the gag had fallen loose, "_It wasn't my idea to come here! Will is a frickin' no-show!__"_

_"I wish I never-" _Cornelia Hale pouted instead of finishing the sentence, but it was obvious what she was going to say anyway.

"_Then why ask me."_

_"I asked you..._" Cornelia sighed and Irma looked away, frowning. "_You're the only one who could help with your powers._"

Irma stopped then, and looked back at the pink cheeked Cornelia. The blonde looked at her humbly and Irma grinned. "_You look disgusting."_

_"And it's sooooo cold!_" Cornelia shook her head, seething and Irma felt herself relax. It might be the only time Cornelia had ever let anyone feel better than her at something, so Irma was definitely going to enjoy it. "_I can't feel my toes!_"

_"S-sorry." _Irma's head turned to the dark corner and she threw her body at Cornelia who was most probably about to scream. In the top corner of a shelving unit a bucket crashed down as someone's leg appeared to kick it, and Irma's eyes grew wide in amazement.

"HAY LIN!?"

"_SHHHH!_" Despite the noise of the bucket, Hay Lin still had the audacity to collapse over Irma, pressing her thin hands over Irma's 'O'-shaped mouth. Hay Lin looked into Irma's eyes with a child-like shame. "_I- I didn't want you guys to leave me out._"

"_We were protecting you!_" Irma's eyebrows knit, as Cornelia hissed aggressively and Hay Lin hung her head in shame. But then Irma took a double take over Hay Lin.

"_Untie us you idiot! How did you escape her!?_ "

"_Huh? She didn't see me._" Irma frowned, wondering how long Hay Lin had had to hide in the cupboard - they had only just made it upstairs when Mrs Rudolph (or so they'd thought) had arrived home. "_Which was weird cause I was like standing right in front of her!_"

"Never mind that. " Untied, Irma picked up the neared object; a handheld hoover, and slammed the door open. "YOU MONSTER!"

**...**

Will wasn't sure what she'd walked in on, but it wasn't the quiet tutorial she'd expected. Irma pointed a finger accusingly at Mrs Rudolph for a few seconds before Cornelia and Hay Lin came tumbling behind her. Hazel eyes shot to her arm, which Mrs Rudolph had grippe-. "Oh my God. Oh God, something ate her!"

"Quiet." Will stopped, but continued to pull as much as she could away from the slimy green creature. Mrs Rudolph's glasses rested on it's plump nose. "I shall hush you all for good if you don't listen to me. And I know you're not so normal either, so you might want to quit passing judgement."

"Mrs Rudolph?" Hay Lin's eyes were wide and buggy, shining with confusion at the foreign species to Will's side. Will glanced, and the creature looked puzzled, as though she'd seen a ghost.

"You're not as bad as I'd thought you might be." Will rubbed her arm as _Mrs Rudolph _let go and suddenly found that the room had turned sideways. It would have seemed that the woman/thing had been keeping Will upright. "Get up. I have news from Meridian."

"From who?" Will frowned, pushing herself back onto jelly legs.

"You really know nothing. The dark prince has taken Elyon captive; I assume he intends to kill her." Will felt herself looking more and more confused as Cornelia gasped, _'Mrs Rudolph' _rolled her/it's eyes. "She's the only heir?"

"I just..." Will winced when the woman/thing trudged forward and pulled the pendant from her neck; instantly dropping it and grasping her palm in her hand. Will bent, hastily picking it up and stepping back, "You're trying to steal it!?"

"Don't be a fool. Dancing around with that thing hanging from your neck. Do you want to die?" There was a silence to the room unlike any she had heard around these girls, and she wished someone else would say something. "Don't you think I know a thing or two about who you are? Don't you think someone who really wanted it would put up a better plan or fight?"

"What did you do with Elyon's parents!" Will looked, baffled when Cornelia spoke, but glad to have the monster turn it's attention elsewhere. "I know you sent them away! What did you do with Elyon!"

"_Elyon_ has been taken by Prince Phobos. Don't pretend to know something when you're failing to listen to me. Her parents have gone home." Harsh eyes flew back on Will's frame, but Will saw Cornelia feeling defensive. She nervously clenched her fists, "Stupid girls. It's not your job to know anything important. You're just the key who's job it is to lock them in, or have you forgotten that."

Water hit the creature's face with a resounding clap. Irma's voice filled with anger, "Don't. You. Talk. To. Them. Like. That."

Mrs Rudolph's skin grew then, changing colour as she once again became life-like; human.

"The portal will be in Heatherfield Park and I expect you to close it."


	5. The Key

The air of Meridian was thick and damp; the scent of mud overpowering from soldiers trudging past. Prince Phobos hadn't been so forceful and conspicuous for thirteen years and Caleb was the only one who didn't smell a trap for the rebellion. Footprints overspread for miles; defiling the landscape, or what was currently left of it. And they had crept up behind them. "_This was a mistake. Caleb._"

No soon had the words been uttered, the tear had formed; a great light seeming to crack through the surface of the air and spread; a swirling vortex of cosmic blue and cloudy atmosphere; a portal. Drake frowned while others behind him gasped, including Aldarn. Caleb tread forward, silently, signalling their standstill while he edged closer: for a better look of what was happening up front.

It stank of deception, and Drake looked up as he heard Lord Cedric's familiar taunting. Drake watched Caleb's careful, yet incredible scaling of a tree. Silent, quick, and unnoticed. It was unsettling; more unsettling than the crowd they were metres behind to watch Caleb's agility sometimes. But Drake became distracted when his eyes fell on her. His hand reached right to grasp Aldarn. "_Tenderfoot, who is that?_"

His eyes caught Aldarn's frown before Drake pointed. Her hair flew to her side in long twists at the slightest gush of air, her dress in stunning blue that...matched her eyes. Drake heard the ground scuffle as he took a step back. His concern climbing the walls of his stomach with every moment that her eyes traced the scene around her. Phobos.

She was both an image of and vastly different from her brother, and Aldarn remained as silent as he did in the awe of realization. Her hair was thick and mussed, with her large eyes and small mouth disproportionate in comparison to her elder brother. The princess of Meridian was no myth; Drake knew it now. She had the royal genes of her mother: a clone, apart from her father's plumper nose.

"_We have to get to her_."

Drake smirked, giving the serious boy a look and gazing back at the girl being surrounded with heavy metal. "_I hope, that you are joking._"

**...**

"We can't just leave her!" Cornelia's jaw clenched in the cool breeze, the scent of the pond closer than comfort. Her posture straightened and she stood a little taller, in the way she always did when intending on having something she was told she couldn't. And Will Vandom was not the type of person Cornelia would be taking no from, not if even her father wasn't. Cornelia pointed her long, dainty finger at the girl. "I mean, you already_left _that monster in Mrs Rudolph's house. Not that I'm trying to be accusive."

"It's _accusatory _and I'd stop pointing your finger then." Cornelia's frown grew deeper, rolling her eyes, but letting her hands rest on her arms as she crossed them instead. Taranee rolled her bike forward, before pushing it against the ground; choosing to ignore the hole in reality just as everyone else had. Will shook her head swiftly.

"I think it _was _Mrs Rudolph. Besides, you really don't wanna go in there." Cornelia frowned, before raising an eyebrow as the redhead pushed a hand out tentatively towards the vortex and faltered. Will's body turned then, with her back against the blue radiating light, "Well m-maybe you could... I have to go through it to..."

"How do you know, you've got no idea what you're meant to be doing!" Cornelia pushed past her, bending to examine it and feeling the surging tickle of whatever this thing was made of.

"None of us do?"

Cornelia's head rolled to glare at Irma's obvious tone, but then she turned to Will and smiled seductively. She knew how to talk people into things. "Will, that thi- Mrs Rudolph told you you have to unite us."

"I-" Will stammered out, and Cornelia pushed a hand on the girl's bony shoulder, forcing a pretty smile and letting her voice coo.

"And you can't do that while leaving us in a different _dimension_."

"I-I guess you-."

"No, you _know _I'm right." Cornelia nodded, while Will's glass eyes took in her every word and the girl even nodded back, "Besides, we have these powers to protect you."

The redhead frowned, "But you don't know how to-"

"How. Else. Will. We. _Learn_." Through gritted teeth Cornelia hissed.

Irma however intruded, pushing Cornelia and Will apart and grabbing Will to shake her. It was incredibly lucky that it was too cold for a day out at the park, "Oh no, you leave her alone! Will! Don't look into her eyes! Don't let her hypnotise you!"

Cornelia rolled her eyes, stretching her neck to ride home, but suddenly perked up as Will extracted herself from Irma, looking at her. "No. She's right. I mean, if you want. You guys should come."

* * *

Caleb's eyes hit her before Cedric's did; halfway between an arrest too formal to be just a pair of citizens. And the girl's eyes bulged wide and uncertainly, stepping back before she was pushed by more girls following her. He'd known she wasn't human. Cedric hissed, and Caleb flit his eyes over the children and the guards moving toward them. "MOVE IN! NOW!"

"WHAT!?" Lord Cedric whirled around and hissed louder; his size bulking, but Caleb jumped before he could see the transformation, using the momentum to kick a pair of standing guards, his sword slashing through the neck-line of an armed guard's bodysuit. He bent forward and curled under, tripping troops who ran backwards; distracted by the now screaming members of the rebellion and girls opposite to them. He slide easily between the confusion: faster than the guards, using their distracted nature to barely tangle swords until he was heavily in the crowd. Then he came face to face with her. Green eyes meeting blue, _his _sister. The world slowed for Caleb momentarily, and he cursed with pain from the first battling weapon to ever hit him. He grabbed his shoulder with the other's hand, his sword preventing theirs from a secondary blow. "S-S-STOP THEM!"

At the shout, Caleb ducked under the fighter. He whirled his sheath cracking it backwards on a guard's head, then stabbed forward, hitting another. But today killing wasn't his main focus and he pushed his back against the back of one, using his force in pushing back to take a run up one, crouching on their shoulders. "Hey!"

**...**

Will Vandom flinched, shouting, "Keep going! More water!"

Irma pressed her hands out, stretching them, her body was shaking, but Will knew there was little else to be done other than retreating: except that within one swoop a tail had swung around them, preventing escape, while Cornelia screamed out for the young couple being grabbed and held by who she could only assume to be his Highness. Will felt the fear and could hear the others' breathing; their screams now gone for lack of words.

The snake had his attention elsewhere and Will's eyes raked up him. "Stop, Irma!"

Will pushed forward and as Irma's gush of water stopped she forcefully jabbed her elbow into one of the poorly armed soldiers while he was caught by the surprise of the moment, pulling away the ogre's sword and taking a run: collapsing over as she pushed all of her weight against it into his tail. "What are you doing!"

She jumped back. Strong, aggressive green eyes stung her, as the snake let out a painful roar and the boy withdrew her sword, crossing it over with his own defensively. "I- have no idea..."

Will felt tears forming and shook her head as the young boy looked at her. She watched in awe as he bat off the suits of armour; but her attention was brought onto the snake man. Wide eyes watched inquisitively as his extreme size withdrew, and she found herself somehow more unsettled when he turned and his eye caught hers. Will grabbed the childlike warrior, pressing her eyes closed and screaming.

**...**

Lord Cedric smirked, his fingers clasped around the object. The winds had picked up and the heavy ground rustled, while the place reeked of blood and he turned to look at the child beside Caleb. If it hadn't been for her he'd have missed it; the Seal of Escanor, which swam gently along in the terror. The grounds were flooded and he could assume they were water witches; using the drains to keep his army's distance. He should have to thank them, and it gave him satisfaction when the red head screamed and fled his gaze.

Lord Cedric slipped back, pushing the idol into his robes. His eyes searched then for Elyon; of whom now not only knew but had seen his other nature, and he realized he would need to reassure her.

**...**

Will had fallen to her knees in agony; Taranee then had slipped from the watery shield had weakened, no longer properly protecting. "Will, we have to go!"

"No!" She pulled up the redhead by her shoulders only for a calloused hand to drop a weapon grab her wrist forcefully. He turned at the perfect moment to deflect another soldier, but didn't release and Taranee pulled; her inner conscious screaming. He was going to kill them. "Tell her to close her portal!"

"What?" Taranee's eyes darted over to the crackling rip, her eyes bulging knowing he wasn't going to let them cross that metre. She looked to the pained, deathly pale girl who leaned heavily into her, her head pounding at yet another metallic clash beside her. Her body was on fire. "Will!"

There was shouting as the other girls screamed, and eventually the boy before them ceased his grabbing her. Will at the point pushed a dragging foot on the ground and gazed dizzily in the other girls' direction. "No!"

A sword had flown at them as Irma's concentrated stream became a trickle, and Taranee felt something electric running through her. A pulsing warmth from the second Will's hand had flown out grasping her pendant; her tired body felt rejuvenated, stronger. In a flash Taranee panicked. Their entire selves had changed, and she turned to Will to find a concerned looking woman. "Will we have to go!"

The woman nodded, the earth trembled and Taranee turned to find the ocean. "Holy cow!"

Her brown eyes grew and her mouth flew open, her fingers tingling as she looked at Irma. Within seconds, and maybe a hundred soldiers. She had washed them away in one sweep. She felt a hand slipping into hers and the red haired woman began to run and pull her.

**...**

Will crossed over through the tear and was met by the sting of the evening breeze. She glanced behind, but knew from the darkness and shadows that the shimmering blue had faded. Dry bile clung to her throat, though the headache had subsided; the Heart lay ice cold against her chest sending shivers. She had seen his eyes meet hers as he touched it, as though he knew what it was about to do to her. She flexed her hand, sticky with the sweat of a boy soldier. Hay Lin screamed, tackling her, "Will! How did you know how to do that! Isn't it cool! Don't we look so cool!?"

"Uh..."

"We didn't save the Browns or Elyon though.." Will's brown eyes barely glanced up to Cornelia before Hay Lin let out another squeal of excitement and Irma came towards her.

"Did you _see _that? Don't wanna fill my own sink, but I really blew it right out of the water!" Will bore a smile, her face feeling pained by the action and her knees buckling slightly though she would not fall. "You guys did okay I guess. You know, at least we know you _have _powers...sorta..."

"That really depends whether or not we were fighting against the opposition." Will's unfocused pupils tried to follow Taranee, who interjected the excitement with an unexpectedly logical tone. "We may have just ruined their rescue mission... I mean if you just _look _at the savages fighting them they-"

"They were a _rebellion_." Irma's voice dragged, obviously and Will frowned, correcting herself as she realized her view was slowly tilting along with her body. "God, against the tyrant Prince Phobos. Dur, am I the only one listening?"

Taranee's voice was the last thing Will heard, "Listening to who?"

**...**

The sharp, energetic blue shade of the portal faded between his fingers, and Caleb frowned, rubbing them together. He had lost her. Caleb's penetrating green eyes shot up at the disbanded battle; now a wasteland of flooded marsh, though some could be heard fighting, it was far off and distant to this place now.

Caleb trudged slowly forward, with his mind on her clutching against him with a scream of anguish. She'd not been injured, he was certain, but then he'd barely had more than a glance of red before she was gone. Caleb shook his head, having realized now that she wasn't the one he was looking for: his eyes set down upon the maze of streams and puddles. He'd never been a friend to the water.

"_Hm_." Caleb ceased, his body arched forward to step and his breath caught. There were few ways to travel through water silently, but his eyes flew to Lord Cedric. Caleb frowned, vaguely recognising the magic; a diamond shaped pendant with Phobos' crest engraved onto it and filled with precious glass or coloured stone. It sliced through the air like a sharp blade, leaving no trace of the air it had cut through; only a tear; a portal.

Caleb took a strong breath through his nose as the Lord crossed over, taking no hesitation in following suit - he waited momentarily in hope of creating some space before drawing his sword and stepping forward.

"_I think she's dead_..." Caleb frowned as the cool air hit him; clear, he felt his lungs fill more easily and he sniffed at the scent of this place. The sky was as dark as daytime in Meridian, but something gave him a different impression - he knew what stars were; the children of night time. Green was thick and coated the area, while flowers bloomed and yet did not whisper their suspicions. He flinched, realizing that although Cedric was nowhere to be seen he could hear others, Caleb stepped back, pushing himself against a thick tree trunk. His eyebrows raised as he took in the water nymph, walking forward with her hands then clasping onto her hips.

"She didn't even glue the universe properly anyway." Caleb leaned forward, taking in that the young girl meant the portal. In the midst of the battle he had thought she'd looked older. "Wake her up."

"How?" A pair came forward with the original sprite between their shoulders, and he watched as the nymph splashed her with water she summoned from her fingers. The red haired girl came to, but seemed to choke as a second splash hit her. The youngest looking looked to the nymph, "How do you do that?"

"Just because I'm _wonderful_."

His step to strain more sight broke a twig and he pushed again against the tree bark. "I... Didn't I close- Oh."

The dim blue light faded and Caleb suddenly thought of where he had trapped himself.

* * *

Will Vandom's mother wasn't home when she arrived back, sometime in the late afternoon as it came toward night, though the skys were black already. No one had made too much of fuss she supposed, though her cheeks burned violently just reviewing the day before her. Will supposed, as she turned her kitchen tap on in the dark that she had started the day with no one and though physically it ended that way, there were people in her life now. With enough weird, warped, magical binds that they might even miss her, were she to disappear tomorrow. She shook her head, "Stupid Will."

It made things less difficult in the dark, to push her hands under the icy water and press her cleaner palm over the crusting blood that covered her. Not sweat at all, and she'd not even noticed; the entire world they had travelled to had smelt like blood by the time she had grabbed him. The boy. Will frowned, gazing across the room at the washer and thinking of her clothes. She wasn't fond of getting new things and she quite liked her thin grey jacket. She turned back, pushing the antibacterial soap over her fingers again and scrubbing harder.

She had known him.

Will's tired eyes flashed open, realizing - she was aware that he had been the one to save him that night, but hadn't considered what he had been there for. Perhaps he had been the one to kidnap Elyon in the end. She frowned. Or save her. She was pretty sure she'd seen the blonde man that night, wandering around fooling nobody, because rare few of the 18-19 year olds anywhere had ever looked so clean. Blue and green eyes swam around her mind and Will seethed, realizing she had been fiercely scrubbing, she pulled her hands from the cold water and instantly they began burning from the numbing temperature they'd been washed in.

Will pushed her hands into the lining of her jacket to dry them, leaving them tingling slightly, and she pushed the item inside out. She pulled the contents of the washer out on the pristine floors, knowing that her mother didn't eat breakfast and had spent the early hours steaming the place anyway; Will shoved the ball of material in and pulled off her t-shirt. She extracted her phone from her pocket before pulling her jeans down, leaving her bare other than her socks and undies. Will was glad she'd left the light out, shoving them all in. She couldn't really care less about her reflection bouncing off her fridge and windows and dishwasher just to make the day that little worse. Will bent over the contraption, flicking a tablet in before shutting the door, a red brow raising, "So... O' buddy, o' pal... How am I supposed to get you to turn on?"

She pushed her warming finger and thumb at the sides of her forehead, rubbing and standing away from the contraption.

"I know, I'm mad." She rolled her eyes at herself as she wandered away from the kitchen, she was done trying this way and read instead the label still on it intending to google this operation. "I'm probably just as well to stick my clothes in the dishwasher, right?"

Will pushed the door closed behind her, crossing the living room, and thinking first of the cool water Will took a turn to their brand new shining bathroom. She turned the tap on and then the shower, before closing her eyes and remembering the water heat was switched off by her mother this morning. Will turned off the tap and looked where she'd come from, realizing that her mother had at some point crept in because the washing machine had otherwise started itself and so Will shrugged and flicked on the heating, climbing in.

**...**

Prince Phobos lips did not part, as his careful hand glazed the pane of the door frame. He did not smile as there was no reason to be smiling. The _Princess _Elyon could be misplaced easily, even in her new robes, as being common. Her pedestrian eyes were as bleak as Meridian; greyish and clouded alike his father's portrait. It was not untrue that she was the heiress, but in truth he was disappointed. The routine curve of their mother's cheeks served her skin - fairer, yet more jaundiced than his own. Even he did not doubt that killing her might do the waif favours, but there was to be no tremendous guilt quite alike gaining from defeating Elyon's demons. She curled an ugly smile, one too forward and much too trusting as they stood alone; as against his wills he moved toward her. He did not smile until only a breath and their height stood between them, at which he gazed down and just a discomfited curve brushed his lips slightly. "I heard that the arrest became quite rattling."

"_Phobos_?" Prince Phobos did not appreciate her awe-toned whisper of his name. Her large eyes looked over him, childishly suggesting that with one look she had forgotten her guardians; she was a spoilt child, though, perhaps it was what they might have in common. The consideration brought a more genuine sense of ease to his expression. Elyon - the young child - frowned, looking young for herself, as the memory washed over her: it would not benefit her that this place was amidst with forgetfulness. "They fought us..."

Prince Phobos felt restrained; a look of thoughtfulness disguising his artless falter. The assured gardens distant; he clumsily eyes her flaxen hair, which aimlessly flew about her: straw-like. His hazardous restlessness was only a small problem, for he hadn't paid enough attention to her arrival, Phobos realized. "They?"

"I don't know... Some said witches..." Prince Phobos felt graceless; rebelliously finding his eyes fixed on her; his mouth opening silently, and closing once again without a word. He could not have been more out of countenance, while she simply took his body in thoughtfully. "Why is there a rebellion?"

Phobos' brow raised uncertainly; surprised by her perceptiveness. She was self-assured and probing, which made the sensation he felt seem all the more alien as Phobos became in his distress, reserved and diffident. "Someone is always thirstily competing for power, _Elyon_. Someone is always plotting for their own stakes."

Her eyes were elusive, which was somehow penetrating.

**...**

Lord Cedric's eyes glint up the tall buildings in the nearby distance. He stepped back, his fingers handling a simple pendant; he turned and waved a hand revealing a key chain nailed into the door panel. His elegant fingers picked up the key familiarly, and he undid the lock, replacing them. The lock was manual on the inside, and Cedric turned it again, once the door had closed behind him. His thumb pushed over an edge of the smooth metal, and Lord Cedric ran his fingers over bookcases. He turned around in the place he had claimed last week, glancing at the hand that rolled flaccid, just past the counter. It was incredible, that be it the right elderly person he might already be forgotten; meaning not a soul even noticed his disappearance, for by the room in the back Cedric presumed the man worked and slept here.

Cedric's fingers grasped a book spine.

Eager fingers flew gracefully, turning pages, and Lord Cedric found what he needed in seconds. In the darkness upon reading incantations, Lord Cedric pulled the Seal up and held it forward, watching the world change and smirking at a familiar set of bookcases. The store now ran directly in and through the Palace Library, and Cedric smiled, waving a hand to create the illusion of the end of the bookshop.

He then turned to the desk there, and bent over it, protruding a small blade with no hint and pressing it against the paper of the book with heavy fingers. In moment the content of the unique book was gone and Cedric tested the strength of the outside frame he'd left of the pages. Satisfied, he pushed the Seal in, pushing the book closed and again almost silently chanting. He could not test the book himself, as it would open now for his fingers only; he could only trust that this spine would protect it, though hidden in a bookshop, he doubted anyone would be looking to find it.

His book was replaced between ancient hobbies no modern man would now use for leisure, and with cool steps he returned to the palace, assuming that he could make amends safely now and apologise to his new course of future. The heiress.


	6. A Bridge Between Two Words

"What do you _want_!" Footsteps heavily tread quickly against the pavement, quietly revealing her near-sprint and the moments Irma stopped to turn accusingly to her silent follower. The cool green eyes piercing sharply on the nape of her exposed neck like needles, making her pull her purple shall tighter; further up her neck and against her. They stared accusingly into hers with a stubborn glint if she let herself look, and after he had come up to her proclaiming full knowledge of her form she'd concluded she'd imagined him.

Her own mind ticked on however; her only argument to the idea being that if he wasn't real he was guilt, and she was crazy, but also admitting to knowing that what she was doing was wrong. Irma Lair had seen the tear in the universal veil close, and knew he wasn't some mug who'd made it through the _"portal"_. Irma scowled at her own self-awareness, feeling another surge of irritation as he glared, sighing loudly and turning to pad on briskly: running was futile, he was silent and he was at least as fast as she was. Which was no great fete because frankly Irma was possibly faster whilst walking.

"I'll assume you haven't heard of a restraining order then, if you're from _'Meridian'_." Irma sarcastically called behind her. Irma pulled at her skirt and then her top nervously; not used to the form of embodiment she had taken. Her blue eyes shone with regret and she bit her lip nervously, pausing again in her pace, but shaking herself back into a state of determination. She had her wings covered gracefully in a purple shall, that had matched her outfit perfectly - only a slight shade darker purple than her boots and skirt, that seemed ridiculous and yet made her look outstanding. She could recall just seconds after willing her transformation, gazing over at herself then clicking her tongue and firing her finger like a gun upwards: of course her way of thanking whoever chose her outfit. _What kind of a place name was Meridian anyway? _Irma wondered, _had she heard it or made it up? _She strode on, before coming to a door and pressed the buzzer forcefully, pulling at her tights. She glanced behind herself at the male several feet away. He seemed to be keeping this pace, treating her as though she were dangerous, or perhaps a startled rabbit...

The buzzer vibrated back at her without any intercom, and she slid her hand around the door as she pushed it slowly, thoughtful, then she slammed herself against it, rushing in and whirling around to see the door sla-

"No!" Silent, rough masculine fingers slid to grasp the door, stopping it from closing before it hit the electric lock. He was impossible and stared through the window with cunning emerald eyes and a serious expression; closer than he had been to her yet with only the door between them, he carefully seemed to push the door open. And in that split second Irma panicked. It was mad: she was mad. If she had been less concerned by the moment she might have logically considered that he was fictional and the door couldn't possibly open, but in the split second rather, she decided to ram herself against the door and moan loudly, "Noooo!"

But it didn't slam. It didn't shut, and a warm breath hit the skin on her nose, washing over her as the boy's strength rebelled and he pushed open the door with her on it; his upper body and head emerging around it. "Why must you not help me?"

She gazed with wide eyes into the bright grassy green that seemed puzzled now, his nose an inch from hers and his manly scent eroding her airways. She leapt back, closer to the inner door frame with her eyes squeezed shut while she squealed, "You're real!"

He was real. As real as her and she knew that deep down she had considered it, but for whatever reason it hadn't sunk in. The other portal came to mind. The one they had stumbled on around the corner, she peeked through slats in her eyelids and saw the stairs. She was out of breath in seconds, but ignoring her panic-stricken breathlessness that had winded her by the first flight she tumbled up - probably looking ridiculous in the form of a grown woman - pounding her fist on the alleged numbered 18 door. She then stopped, remembering who might answer and stood straight, her practised smile falling a little, when Joel Wright of Cobalt Blue swung the door open and frowned, "Do I know you...?"

"Nope!" He had clearly paused for an introduction, but she glanced over his shoulder at the stumbling, laughter and music that looked nothing like the organization she had experienced partying with Cornelia Hale. But then again, unlike Andrew Hornby, Cornelia Hale didn't drink. Her big blues flit back to the boy, waiting patiently for her attention, and she suddenly recalled her follower and turned quickly to the empty stairway. He had gone.

"In or out?"

Irma smiled her practised, flirty smile.

**...**

White, gnarled fingernails drew through the grimy coating of dust on the book spines, leaving a wiry snake that revealed the upper letters of their titles. Yan Lin's weary eyes grew blurry; her pupils were focussed, but she let no one know of the darkness she saw, winding shadows of bodies. She grasped her Hay Lin's face every day that she called the child magnificent. She could smell, however, more distinctly the days she was blinder. Yan Lin fumbled through her books and stopped dead on when she felt a certain one. It was a curse, rather than a book: a object that held secrets inside with no lock except that of it's owner.

It would not open without the user willing it to.

She had come across the item from a passling; a hunchbacked fellow with grime and aged eyes when she met him. The bearded seller had taken the air she had woven - it was an invisible dagger that would never be detected. A strategy few knew of, but the air itself could be shattering. It would tear skin and rip flesh without ever being detected, and Yan Lin regret often her youth in giving it him. The beast was just a simple passling, but whomever he sold the item to could have caused havoc, if only on one victim. "Hay Lin."

The book clunked against the back of the bookcase, and at her whim the air had already made it's use indistinguishable from a layer of dust that looked many decades old. The girl was silent, but the air breathed every traitor's name to Yan Lin well before they could strike her. No one could keep secrets from the wind. No one from the earthly realm at least. "Grandma?"

"You should be sleeping, child," Yan Lin gazed in the direction of her successor. The sweet child was too filled with an innocence she herself had possessed, and Yan Lin intended that Hay Lin would be able to protect hers. The air's very essence would be at a professional's calling this time, and without Hay Lin needing fear to help her earn it. There was true demon on Yan Lin's shoulder quite like the gift bestowed upon her. Yan Lin smiled softly, "The entire sky has become dark simply to allow you to do so."

"Will Elyon Brown be alright?"

Yan Lin frowned, but nodded slightly. Her eyes locked on Hay Lin when she grinned breezily, "That depends entirely on whether or not her saviours have become tired and weaker instead of sleeping."

Yan Lin felt her own body aching; longing for her bedroom, and the support of her mattress. She walked forward slowly, ready to leave the past in the attic, her hand reaching for the petite girl's shoulder as she reached her. Hay Lin was thin and brittle, or agile and aerodynamic. But a clumsy introduction to power-wielding had consequences like no other. Yan Lin would never, and never had shown distress to her granddaughter, because power itself was in keeping level headed. Yan Lin had been calm for half a century, and never intended to be otherwise.

**...**

Cornelia Hale had breezed by the party at about eleven. She had gone home and moped, before bathing and pressing her skirt; for appearance sake as she knew it might help her to be there. They were a different type of friends, and Cornelia was always invited, rarely showing her face at their parties. She wasn't snobbish, but she'd rather stay at home - it wasn't a matter of the district or state the flat had. But someone was surely drunk and said they had seen the older sister of Irma Lair. Which anybody knew was the stepmother of Irma Lair. Meaning that Irma might have tried to crash it.

And Cornelia was not a snob, but these friends were _her_ friends and Cornelia knew fine that in her group Irma had never been extended one of Andrew's invitations.

What surprised Cornelia however, was that the drooling state that by this point was Samson Everett was quite sure Andrew had left with Mrs Lair about half an hour ago. At which point Cornelia realized the joke was on her and stomped back toward her apartment, having wasted her time and energy - which wouldn't have happened had Irma been more in check with her behaviour. "Hello!"

Her eyes flashed across the street as a tall male smiled, clearly unaware of the time as he waved cheerfully. She smiled her small smile and raised her hand absent mindedly, having no time for the alcohol-inhibited night walkers of Heatherfield. She wasn't a snob, but the stink on their breath was enough reason for her to never be caught drinking alcohol.

**...**

Caleb frowned at himself and the moonlight, reflecting up at him from a large man made puddle. The entire world seemed to be lifeless; there was nothing. Nothing but the still night and unfamiliar sounds and he suddenly wondered if he had followed Lord Cedric into a hopeless world. He was lost, and Caleb didn't like to think it. But he'd been tricked, he'd followed a nymph and now they were right near a creek and his own duties in another land, unreachable. And then he heard a scream and a curse and Caleb shot up, his speed incomparable as he flashed down the riverbed, just moments from the deadland, to the metallic prison the nymph's voice had come from. "Oh my God!"

He would free her. Caleb's fingers tore at the foreign beast but it was no use; he grabbed the hilt of his blade and took a slash at it.

"JESUS!" He jerked back as the nymph turned around, looking fearful and he stopped, suddenly seeing. It was a creature. He lowered his sword as she took control and opened the cell, wide eyes taking in and looking stunned at his' swords work. Her hands raised exasperatedly up to her head and she wailed, but he lowered the blade and returned it, realizing there was no danger. The panicked looking girl took him in and quite worthlessly pointed. "I- I turned him into a frog..."

**...**

The boy's wide eyes travelled across Irma's features and she felt her cheeks heat rapidly as she watched him desperately. His lip curved up and the stubborn seriousness eased; his sharp focussed eyes softening and he suddenly looked far younger than he had. Irma's heart beating faster with unease as he laughed, virtually giggled. "This creature?"

"It's not a creature,_ it's a boy_!" Irma pouted, desperately while the brunette boy bent forwards with his face a minute distance from the frog, his smile full of wonder. She'd had a look before, but only now did she realize how his clothes were outdated. The most of what she could see being a thick leather jacket in brown, that trailed almost to the ground in a condition that suggested he'd worn it since it did. He wasn't as big as she'd thought either; he might've been 5'6, but had looked tall and daunting in the street light. Irma shook her head slightly, as her shallow eyes dragged further down his spine, squeezing next to him in the car's doorway and bending forward beside him to peer at the frog. "He was Andrew Hornby..."

The boy smirked wryly, and looked at her as though he might laugh again. "Your gentleman caller was a passling foal in disguise...?"

"No!" Irma didn't know what that was, but she felt offended. Her face scrunched up in disgust as this boy bubbled with mirth, and she straightened, only to bump her head on the door frame. Irma corrected herself, touching where she'd bumped before turning her nose up and crossing her arms. "He was a foul toad and so I turned him into one! ...but it wasn't on purpose- I- I didn't mean to."

The green eyes of the boy stared at her intently now, taking in her words with awe and maybe bewilderment. "You're a... _witch_?"

"No!"

He moved back, maybe protectively, and then clapped his hands together to Irma's distress; trying to clasp his hands on the frog as it suddenly jumped and leapt out of the car, but thankfully the olive hands didn't catch it. "Stop, wait!"

"No! Don't, you'll crush him! Don't kill him!" Irma scrabbled around as the boy called after Andrew; his hands swiping as he tried to grab the jumping target, obviously unfamiliar with this movement pattern. His meaty hands were going to crush the frog and she desperately bent on her knees, only to shriek when the boy tumbled over her. "What the hell are you doing! You clumsy-"

Irma's hands slapped against her own mouth, with the boy already detaching himself from her, ignoring her completely as he watched the frog for a moment... The green eyes seemed to condense their colour to a darker shade of green, matching the colour of Andrew Hornby, watching, whilst Irma held her breath watching him - still bent across the ground, with her knees sinking slowly into the dirt.

"Oh my God..." Her body _shook_ physically when he moved, almost directly _before _the little frog leapt, but he turned with a grin across his face and she sighed. Irma felt her tense body relax and smiled back at her confidant, who she had a new found sense of endearment to her creepy stalker friend. "You did it! You did it! You did it! You did it!"

"But he's still a _'_frog'..."

* * *

Caleb walked forward in the dusky light, which seemed tainted at every turning. The world was flat and hard and bright at all times, and he wondered if these people were hiding from a darkness alike Meridian. People seemed to feel protected by the light, something that Caleb didn't understand but felt exposed by. She said that she wasn't a witch. She wasn't a nymph either. One of Caleb's brows furrowed, sneaking a look at this girl with his thoughts on the hazel eyed pixie. They were something else, maybe all of them. "My name's Irma."

Green shot back to blue and in the moment he'd gazed back up the road - identical to the next turn and the last - she'd stopped and looked seriously at him. His hands were still clasped in a bubble around the often moving 'frog', but he slid one out, still with plenty space in his palm to gently clasp the creature. He took her hand, surprised when she grimaced; he bent his head down in a slight bow, realizing when he let her go and she pulled a layer of slime from his grasp.

"Ew."

"Caleb!" He closed his eyes when her gaze flashed to him, lowering his voice from the almost excited tone it held and condemning his unusual behaviour. He straightened his features, remembering where he had come from. "My name is Caleb."

"Hnn!" Caleb jumped then, when the girl made a noise and shook her head, her inner monologue obviously at war with itself. He took a half step forward in concern - his mind always aware of her importance to the success of the Metaworld - but she smiled, slightly strangely and widened her eyes before returning to her normal state. "Don't ever look at me like that. Just don't. And don't any ideas, I _will _turn you into a pig!"

It was a joke, but Caleb felt his stomach churn uneasily, his free hand curling protectively as he finally understood the frog.

But she smiled kindly and he felt at ease.

"I'm not making promises, but if you need to you can maybe sleep on my couch." She said it thoughtfully, then leant in toward him and whispered playfully. "_Don't let my dad smell fear though._"


	7. A Bridge Between Two Words 2 of 2

The morning sky had not erupted yet with sunlight, and Elyon by this point had wondered if it was coming. A maid had awoken her, flustered, fiddling with the curtains. And Elyon had pushed out controlled breaths, watching clumsy hands shake over the table-wear; a glass for water on a silver tray full of ice cubes. There was a slice of lemon wedge, and maybe grapefruit and orange. All neatly aligned on a saucer, with a small fork beside them and she wondered if the slithers were her breakfast. Elyon's wide eye took in the monsterous maid's skin; coated in green flesh, she was greyish as well and awfully nimble, she- "This?"

"My Lord!"

Elyon squeezed her eyes closed tight when the maid-girl flinched; an awful rattling and clash as the table-wear shook, maybe falling. Elyon heard steps then and could imagine Lord Cedric coming, Elyon bit her lip slightly. "What is... _thiss_?"

Unimaginably quickly his voice was to the left of her bed, presumably where the maid had been standing. A grey eye peeped open and there he was, in the midst of pearly blues and pastel colouring. The red wood of the table just a breath away from him while he picked up a wedge between his fingers and examined the samples. He brought one to eye level and Elyon jumped when she heard - he had spat on her. The young girl bowed down and whimpered shyly, "I-I didn't know what she'd like as refreshment!"

"_SSSssTh_!" Elyon flinched her body tight when he hissed and the girl backed up, his own body clenching and pulsating and sizing. She watched with wide eyes as the back of his neck changed, darkening and thickening skin becoming leathery before it returned again. "_Get out!_"

"No!" Elyon reached out as she realized he would have struck her. Elyon's hand was outstretched and commanding. Her insides whimpered as something seemed to create tension in this room, even before this ordeal had been started. Elyon was yet to understand why, but she didn't care anymore. _Lord _Cedric looked startled at her, but not apologetic. Elyon pulled off her bedsheets and stood tall, still much shorter beside him. Her chin jutted out in defiance, though by her title she supposed he was the one defying her. "Does the Prince know that you'd beat her!?"

Cedric's face fell then and Elyon smiled proudly. She had felt exposed and uneased since she'd got here, but now she suddenly felt powerful. Her mind flashed to her dream; a dream without hope or love or understanding. Of cold hands that did not know her grasping her shoulders. "Princes-"

"And what of my parents?" Elyon feigned confidence and spoke with a loud voice, imagining she was royalty. She _was _royalty. Blue eyes traced her body and she couldn't read him, but Elyon didn't waver, hearing the maid flee. "I didn't _want _them arrested."

**...**

"False hope will lure them right to my brother." Lord Cedric stilled. He had no real knowledge of what he should do with her. The girl's sense of entitlement was stifling and he urged himself not to laugh at her. Until she'd said that and he was listening. "Like he said they are stupid and incompetent. If they were given the idea they were ready they might call on a battle you could easily _disparate_."

At that he knew she had no real idea what she was saying. The prince had forced the idea into her brain for Elyon to feed on. Though, were the rebels truly weaker a quick battle was one they could 'dissipate'. However, he had been ordered to wait. To smite the rebellion one by one because Prince Phobos was not efficient so much as sadistic: he showed that now through telling her the real solution. Prince Phobos knew he could win now, but chose to _destroy them_.

But Prince Phobos had Elyon's loyalty decided. Lord Cedric dropped to the floor in a deep bow with his knee forward.

"Forgive my _insolencssse_." He bent his head down low, concealing his forked tongue. She had seen him, but it was formality. "Princess, I will learn to control my anger."

"Good."

**...**

Will opened her eyes to the door bell. Well, the intercom which kept buzzing and buzzing. Her mother had already left then - Susan Vandom was never known to let the buzzer go. It never lasted more than a second and she always, _always _knew who it was. And funnily enough, Will realized, no one _ever _called for Susan Vandom when she wasn't ready for it. With that Will slowly raised to her ear the intercom phone, "...Hello?"

Will frowned, while she took herself in in the mirror. Her mother always put a mirror there, and stared at herself while letting someone up or speaking on the telephone; twirling the cord around her fingers. Her mother looked glamorous and Will pulled down a tug of crimson hair that stood out in a strange direction. It bounced back up immediately. She frowned at muddy brown eyes frowning back at her, her dreams had been laced in the supernatural. "_fffssffffffFFssss- Will? It's-"_

Will's eyes bulged and her messy hair bounced, knotty and disobedient. She slammed the phone against the receiver and stood silent, with her ears just brushing her raised shoulders. Whoever knew she was here, she didn't recognise and she didn't intend on letting them find her.

**...**

"Are you scaling a building?" Hay Lin asked innocently, staring up at the redhead with one leg seemingly caught over the fire escape. Wide, dark eyes flashed to Hay Lin and the petite girl watch Will fall back, shouting out curses because her foot remained caught on the fire escape. The redhead's hair was messy and unkempt, and she wore frog print bottoms with big black boots and her usual jacket.

"Hay Lin!?" Hay Lin smiled at her name, while Will's face contorted aggrievedly. "Oh my God! You made me look like an idiot! Who the hell was I talking to on the intercom!"

Hay Lin shrugged, she didn't know what Will was talking about. The sun beat down on her however, and she sucked in some of the warm air. Hay Lin pulled at her long pigtail, not sure if the situation was normal procedure for Will Vandom - she certainly was a weird one.

"How did you find me!?"

Will hissed it, having had pulled herself up on the bars, untangling a bootlace that had seemingly caught on the railings. Hay Lin wondered if it was maybe not normal. Her eyes flashed to the door as it opened and a boy from Sheffield Institute rushed out, not too fast however to take a look at Will as she collapsed the stairs down, then proceeded to fall past them down the first floor. Hay Lin took it upon herself then to walk closer, beside the girl. "Irma's dad is a cop and she told me like three days ago."

"You came to my house_ like three days ago_?"

Hay Lin couldn't understand what the problem was. The skinny girl pushed her unruly red hair back however and grunted, pushing herself up to standing, and then snarling at the boy who Hay Lin realized was still staring. The kid rushed on with his backpack pulled tight to his back and Will proceeded to turn a brighter colour than her hair was. Hay Lin frowned, "Don't worry, you looked cool, it was kind of like watching spiderman..."

Will double took then and Hay Lin became the one flushing at the open-mouthed look she was given.

Hay Lin brought her hands up, fiddling two fingers together. "Um, you know, if spiderman couldn't really- uh, _stick _to stuff..."

"You are just incredible..."

"Thanks!" Hay Lin grinned broadly, her confidence returning. "Your pants are incredible! Are you wearing those to school!?"

Wilhelmina blushed again. "Hay Lin! I thought I was under attack! Who the hell was that!"

**...**

The eldest of the Hale daughters liked to rise and fall in tune with the early spring's sunrise. At 6.45am precisely she would be readily washed and clothed, drinking her Chai Almond smoothie. Cornelia Hale didn't eat breakfast until her body was prepared for it.

Taranee Cook frowned over the rim of her glasses at the delicate blonde pushing the blade of a knife into another slice of banana. Expert fingers had already crumbled fibrous flakes over the Soya bio-yoghurt along with whole walnuts and blueberries, creating a perfect concoction that Taranee itched to photograph. All that Cornelia touched seemed to come to a parallel alignment, all but Irma who clambered onto the empty end of the school bench; panting. The world had lost order and Cornelia's silent form looked away from the distant dreamland, her hands clenching; she frowned, her knife cutting a slant in what was left of the banana. Cornelia didn't notice though, it was no intentional effort that her breakfast looked so incredibly tasteful.

But when Cornelia had started to sit in front of her every day - or she assumed it would be, because this was three days running - to silently eat while Taranee did her usual morning study, Taranee had begun to notice. She had the eye for photography, she'd like to think: just not the money for a worth enough camera. Irma gasped, comically, heaving loudly and Taranee raised an eyebrow realizing the girl was in fact serious.

The cultured silence that Taranee and Cornelia had created for each morning was about to be corrupted. It stung a little, because in her few friendships, Taranee hadn't ever been good with speaking. "Yes, Irma?"

Taranee had opened her mouth while Irma kept continually heaving, but it was Cornelia whose dulled words were spoken; the exasperated girl flicking a perfectly poker-straight strand back which flew outward and fell gracefully back into her hair as her pretty blue eyes rolled. She pushed her chin on her knuckles with her elbow to lean on. "_I... found... a... boy_..."

"What, Andrew Hornby!?" Interest peaked in those eyes and Taranee frowned, wondering. She didn't know what to say, so she pulled her Math textbook closer. Black-brown eyes peeked over the cover curiously. Cornelia seemed pretty agitated. "I thought I told you boys like that ar-"

"_No... I..._" Irma sat up, taking a proper breath before turning with worried eyes looking quite nervously. It was only then Taranee realized Cornelia was the mother hen of the group. She seemed quite controlling, but maybe she was really just there for them. Maybe Cornelia was just mad at Irma for needing so much looking after - Taranee suspected, though she supposed she had no proof of it. It was just a wave of thoughts sweeping by her. And then Taranee stopped, feeling a slight pride at the thought of how she was treated; the mutual respect she seemed to be given, which made her feel special because, really, Cornelia was quite grown up. "I turned Andrew Hornby into a frog, you were right about him, this boy's from Meridia-"

"You _what_?" Pale blue irises shot to Taranee and the young girl quivered. The pride crawled back to it's dark place, realizing Cornelia might've forgotten she was here. But Irma had said- Taranee turned back to much darker blue eyes.

"...turned him into a 'rog?" Irma shrugged, laughing uneasily. The girl turned to her shoulder bag and pulled a small box out, a very dead looking toad in it's corner. Irma's eyes widened. "Shit! Andrew! Turn him back!"

"I don't know how to turn him back!" Cornelia squirmed away as Irma lunged the box towards her. "Is this a joke!?"

"Oh my God stupid! Why would I bring a freaking frog into school for a joke!?"

"You brought one in to prank Elyon in Biology last year!" Cornelia spat the words then reserved herself, thinking of Elyon. Her blue eyes filled with something she concealed by turning her head down, distinctly facing her breakfast. Her nimble hands clumsily threw the banana in and she shoved a spoonful into her mouth before binning the concoction and pulling out a chocolate bar half the size of Taranee's huge textbook. Cornelia shrugged, taking a chomp from it, "Don't even say anything."

Irma smirked, "I enjoy that you had that in your bag more than I should do. Do you have any doughnuts?"

"Does anyone care that your crush is a toad?" Taranee pulled the box close to her eyes, flinching when it croaked loudly. She gagged visibly. Taranee couldn't _stand _the slimy things.

**...**

Cornelia Hale's blue eyes drew along the corridor; her long, slim fingers grasped the Tupperware box tightly without closing the lid which was cracked open, with her lips pursed impatiently. Irma Lair had not set about giving Cornelia the best day, but Cornelia never supposed Irma would. It wasn't as though Cornelia was entirely jealous of the thought of Irma with her generation, but Cornelia heard them call her an ice queen. The heavy attitude problem that most of her peers thought she had with their ditching and drinking just didn't sit right with alot of people; she was mostly popular despite that from riches, beauty, and quick wit that sometimes didn't even belong to her. But those boys were frightening. Elyon had no problem, because Cornelia knew the girl would tell her. When it came to Irma Lair, Cornelia didn't know whether Irma's hard shell would double as armour or hold Irma's feelings in. "Come on."

Cornelia's eyes flashed down to the frog, not sure if it understood her, but she still felt the need to assure it with conversation to remind herself that the frog was Andrew Hornby. She paced quickly and lightly across the hallway, her eyes on her locker, knowing full well that once the school officially opened Knickerbocker's eyes were suddenly everywhere.

Annoyed, Cornelia frowned at an _antithetical _locker, one which hung open slightly with a corner of dark material hanging out of it: there were scrappy balls of paper trying to crawl out and by the looks of it, a graffiti-ridden textbook. Her nose shot up, disgusted by it, but just at that moment behind her a door opened. Cornelia's locker lay locked two doors away and her eyes bulged worriedly. Sheffield Institute was not accessible for pupils before classes started, and to that there were very few exceptions. Cornelia virtually threw the box into the open locker, closing it forcefully. She whispered back to Andrew, "_Sorry!_"

"Miss Hale." Cornelia's mouth broadened into a grin and she turned to the vulture. Principle Knickerbocker squinted suspiciously at Cornelia and the blonde's posture straightened.

Her smile oozed confidence, but Cornelia knew that Principle Knickerbocker didn't recognize the influence of social skills. "Principle Knickerbocker! ...Miss, I came to ask you about..._Elyon_?"

"Miss Brown?" Cornelia blinked, and it seemed as though Elyon had vanished; a trick of the mind playing up on her, but the Principle's beady eyes seemed concerned. Her graceful white beehive should've toppled, Cornelia was sure, because of the way it hung precariously. Her plump bosom thrust outwards to balance her great thrusting rear-end. Cornelia realized that Knickerbocker was tapping her fat foot and looking at her.

"I..." Cornelia found truth supplying her quivering lip. Her blue eyes watery and she resented herself as she said the words in hushed tones, "Where is she? Really?"

It wasn't a moment of solid thought, nor a conversation that should've been had, but Cornelia Hale wasn't being smart at that moment and every second that something else clouded her mind, Cornelia felt guilty for and Principle Knickerbocker stared strangely at Cornelia, " Miss Hale.. What are-"

"Why isn't anyone _looking _for her!" Cornelia's voice became desperate and her breaths shallow, her thoughts wildly escalating as she saw red; saw them hurting her; _eating _her. Cornelia found herself leaning in over her headteacher, "Since when did anyone just disappear with no trace or phone calls, for a _**vacation**_!"

"I see." Knickerbocker's dull dark eyes took in Cornelia, and Cornelia remembered herself. She remembered the trouble she might've just caused and the fact that if anyone looked, no one was going to find them. They would become a worldwide headline. "I will have the Brown's contacted immediately if this is a serious concern, I can see you're having some trouble with the information."

"Th-thank you.."

And with that Cornelia walked away, dumbfounded by the situation she'd put herself in.

**...**

In the quiet morning of Sheffield Institute, Kate Knickerbocker frowned. Her stout hand rested heavily on the receiver as her ears still rang with a dial tone. It was an incorrect mobile line, but Knickerbocker had rarely ever contacted the Browns. It wasn't unusual that the _Information Changes _forms got thrown away or left in the bottom of school bags; more than once she'd ring up to find the smarter youths needing disciplined would fill in the form with their own number, just as many could forge their parent's signature. She lifted the handset and her thick finger dialled the receiver, waiting for voice mail. "Mrs Brown, I am calling with a concerned reason. On behalf of a Miss Cornelia Hale today at..."

Mrs Knickerbocker glanced up at the school clock, her eyes rolling at the young teens dramatics.

**...**

There had been no time to grab her school books, by the time that she and Hay Lin had strolled into the Institute (_institution_), though Will suspected she'd have received the same dirty look when she pulled out the textbooks she'd been lent; all well used and covered in graffiti. Will's brown eyes had wandered to Cornelia a few times; it had turned out that they'd had several classes together, but Will had jumped to split other sets of partners. Cornelia had a girl called Alchemy, and the pair seemed destined for each other, with their loud laughs and inability to use a Bunsen burner for anything. But when the bell went, and morning break finally let out, porcelain fingers grabbed her, unbelievably gently. "Um... _Will_?"

"You could try just saying my name," Will pulled her skinny arm away from Cornelia's grip, her manicured nails scratching her skin, though Will ignored it. The stink of expensive perfume made the girl choke and she recognised it as the smell that hung constantly around her locker. It wasn't fair, on Will to think negatively of her, but Cornelia hadn't been a ray of sunshine herself and it itched at the untidy redhead that when Cornelia risked speaking to her, the blonde actually whispered. Hissed was more like it. Will turned quite blatantly and spat out at the blonde. "Or would you ruin your reputation like that?"

Will shrugged off, realizing that the living Barbie was trailing behind her, but Will didn't want to hear it; she'd had enough today. She was tired and the man on the line had not been imaginary and her jacket still had the smell of blood on it and. Will sighed, pulling her bag from her shoulder as she stopped off at her locker, "Is that your locker? -WILL!"

Will's hazel eyes crossed, as she reached out to try and catch the green blur as it leapt from her locker. Cornelia took the matter more seriously though as the redhead span on the spot and Cornelia grabbed a clear box from the locker's content, slamming it down on the ground with her entire weight behind it. Will gulped, before realizing from the shriek that Cornelia had known what was going to be in her locker. "Did you put a _toad __in my locker_?"

"Will!" Will looked down, feeling awkward from Cornelia's pleading tone, there were few things today that she thought could surprise her. Will tore a sheet from her scrappy textbook, picturing Taranee's shudder as she bent down beside the blonde, sliding the paper under the box and lifting the frog up carefully. There were some things that just weren't funny, and Will wondered if she knew that animals could die from stress like this. "Will be careful!"

"No, you be-"

"Oh God, Will," Will's wide brown eyes stared up as Irma looked uncertainly, "Thank God Cornelia told you!"

"You can't just trap a wild creature!" Will felt betrayed, pulling the lidless box in towards her. She loved frogs, but she knew quite frankly that keeping them away from their natural habitat was non-optional... Will shuddered, remembering the _slight _infestation. And that frogs had babies. Lots of babies. But what surprised Will was that Irma was in on it, and Will turned on her heel, heading for the doors - her concern overriding the embarrassment as people glanced warily at them. "It'll probably die when I free it! You know, they can't just take the subway!"

"Wilhelmina Vandom, put Andrew DOWN!" Will scuffed her trainers on the lino. "Do you have ANY idea how hard it was for Caleb to catch that thing!"

Will frowned, not understanding what the brunette was on about. She turned around and a beaming Hay Lin with a timid Taranee stood, now also behind her. Except that Cornelia looked at least as confused as she was, staring at Irma. "Who's Caleb?"

Will pulled the box up to eye level. "What do you mean, _'Andrew'_?"

* * *

Steely cold eyes took in his surroundings, and awfully often they drew onto each of them. Caleb was a small boy, average maybe in height with a strong set jawline that had clearly been made for frowning. His strong posture teamed with his broad shoulders; that seemed only broader from the sheer leanness of them. He was nimbly muscular, making him certainly fit for working undercover of nightfall. Yan Lin watched him carefully, when Irma Lair paraded him into the shop enthusiastically. He had been slung into her absent father's old training joggers. "Dad was out all night anyway, some unexplained death enquiry."

"For who?" Yan Lin threw in rosemary frowning at Cornelia Hale who pulled at his new, more promising bandages shamelessly. Her eyes raking over him with her smile set to _stunning_, she seemed to be torn between his handsomeness and concern for the great tear in his shoulder. But Cornelia looked worried when Irma spoke.

"Oh, just some old guy - they think it was a heart attack, the bloke's son found him." Irma yawned casually, and Yan Lin smirked at the ease of which Tom Lair had passed down to sharing private information. She knew this was true because the man shouldn't have really told his mouthy daughter, "Inherited the _whole _book store. Like the poor guy even wanted them: who wants books!"

"So, you're from the... _other place_?" Yan Lin wondered how many time's Taranee Cook, who seemed anything but a fire guardian, was going to pry about Caleb's existence. Yan Lin threw a full bottle of liquid into the broiling pan, blowing on it lightly and instantly cooling it all.

"This should help your _friend_." Yan Lin heard Irma squeak as she lazily threw the toad in the pot, but the transformation was instant. Yan Lin frowned as the soaking boy quivered, shaking slightly. His mouth fell open and his eyes bulged and Yan Lin pressed a finger to his lips. "Not one word silly boy!"

And with that the boy backed up and ran out, whilst Yan Lin shrugged, knowing full well he would probably intend to tell everyone. He would forget in a few moments anyway though; that was the beauty of the melted snow of Thanos.

"You're late Will." Yan Lin called out, her eyes on the door moments before Will appeared, scowling.

**...**

The boisterous girl swung into the place as though it were a punishment, her copper irides rolled upwards with her small fingers pressing her forehead taut as though her pale little head hurt. Violent red hair hung lazily around her pixie face, quite uniquely crimson as far as he had seen, though Caleb hadn't seen much of Earth other than being forced into Irma Lair's living room, and the 'Back of The Restaurant'. He stayed silent, his teeth clenching when cool fingers hit his upper chest again - his mind drawn back to his last battle, and, his clumsiness - in the sideline bench of the cluttered room that smelt perfumed with old magic and felt hot from the boiling of it. Caleb shrugged off Cordelia. "Late? _Late_? Oh Mrs Lin, this is what I'd call an _after _school activity. You can't be late for something optional."

"You're about fourteen years late." Caleb couldn't help it. His sharp tongue seemed to wound her and she veered forcefully to face him, turning crimson. His voice had been bitter, his green eyes determined, but when her insulted gaze met him he regret his actions in vocalizing the opinion so quickly. Caleb didn't consider she might be offended by it.

"That's alot from you Mr '_it's _**my** _fault all the time_', thanks, you got your bloody- _blood _all over me!" Caleb's brow lifted, "And what would I be, _two_? What, was I-"

"I saved your life." Caleb stood, his grimace tightening with frustration when she threw her stained garment on him; he picked it off, exhaling loudly at the sight of what _was _his blood on her jacket. "Thrice."

"Twice!" He opened his mouth, but she pointed a finger at him, " If even that! And how'd you get blood on my _jacket_! I wasn't _wearing _my jacket! You asshole, you know that that means I need a new one!"

"That's really probably a favou..." Caleb's head lifted and he turned to look at Cordelia; the thinnest, blonde girl, who'd slumped down beside the dark skinned girl in the corner. His eyes met hers, wide, over thick rims, and the dark girl's shoulders tensed and she looked away instantly. Cordelia had faded out and Caleb turned to the smallest, yet most aggressive girl.

"It's. My. Favourite. Jacket."

"You'll need a sturdier material in Meridian-" Caleb spoke authoritatively, but the girl's dark eyes widened and her brows rose, her lips parting in confusion and her shoulders rigidly frozen up by her earlobes. Caleb held his words on his tongue, a silent tension in the atmosphere instantly noted.

"What's Meridian?" Her arms dropped, still not naturally, and she tilted her head with her large eyes squinting at him. He couldn't quite read what she was thinking, but Caleb stood tall, nodding a head to Cordelia. Irma had made it clear that she wasn't in charge and he could understand why she said it so eagerly, though he appeared to have defused the flammable time-bomb. The impish child had a courage, but she also had an ignorant mouth on her. And he would have hoped than Cordelia would hold better control over her. The unfeminine bared teeth stuttered, "Y-you came from there, wasn't that..."

Caleb knelt, feeling indited to compose himself and approach them respectfully, with his head bowing momentarily before he uttered. "Your powers will - I quite faithfully believe - give the upper hand to the rebellion against the King of Meridian and-"

"No."

Caleb faltered. He had already consulted Cordelia Hale and found it insulting that she who ought to be most thankful toward him would rebel against her own leader. "Cordelia-"

"**_Cornelia _**is not in charge here!" Caleb flew to standing, exclaiming a _what!? _though he condemned himself for doing so. His bright eyes took in a glowing _'Cornelia_', who hadn't officially claimed, but had given the indication of her leadership. Her relaxed pose had been replaced with a cat-like strained back, her features rigid with offense; with anger though Caleb's mind was racing. He turned some-what dreading, as the stubborn pixie thrust her chest out, proudly and furiously digging her thumb into herself. "**_I_ _am_**."

Caleb's eyes searched the room, in which everyone watched silently: apparently baffled, but not denying her pouting and turned nose.

"And no tear-jumping, hitch-hiking, _bleeding _'_rebel_' is giving me orders on what to do with **_my _**Guardians."

* * *

Hay Lin's thumbs traced the vertical shape of the tea cup. It was empty now, and the porcelain had long gone cold, while Hay Lin's dark eyes watched quietly; her Grandmother appeared to sleep. There had been further words on what to do with the acclaimed 'Leader of the Rebellion of Meridian', which had left him lying awake down in the basement: Irma's father wasn't likely to be out another night, and he wasn't nearly as friendly as her step-mom. Hay Lin didn't dare speak to him yet, with wisps of the night air letting her hear him. He was not happy. Will Vandom had had no time to listen and her Grandma had said he'd been disrespectful. Hay Lin couldn't see why, and taking one last look down at her small hands, Hay Lin pushed the Porcelain cup onto the creamy silk cloth that hung over her Grandmother's - which had been her Great Grandmother's - small, dark reddish rosewood dresser. There was a cookie on the saucer that she hadn't been hungry for. "Let me read you your tea leaves..."

Hay Lin's fingers had barely brushed away from the cool cup, before the elderly woman who'd momentarily for the last few days looked restful, turned in her lavish bed and scooped up the cup. "I've been swirling it Grandmama."

"No matter." The old woman had shuffled now, pulling at the great feathered pillows that lay crumpled behind her. When she was finally sitting the woman looked accusingly to Hay Lin, "Come on girl, what are you doing down there!"

Hay Lin's Grandmother's bed was a humongous thing. It would fit the woman with at least seven children; or so the photos showed, but Yan Lin pat the bed and it creaked pleadingly when Hay Lin's slim form crawled upon it. It was higher than a modern bed, and the mattress was soft, aged and comfortable. Hay Lin's memories lay and jumped in this bed, and she was glad her Grandma had never had any thought to replace it. She was at least as stubborn as Will.

Hay Lin heard curses being murmured in the near-distance. Maybe even as stubborn as this boy, Caleb. "That's better! But you're absolutely right, you've ruined your tea leaves."

Hay Lin frowned, pouting slightly, because she loved when her Grandma told her about her tea leaves. Every by-the-book symbol became part of their stories.

Yan Lin's fingers danced over Hay Lin's skin, as the woman seemed almost to look blindly at her. "By anxiety. Hay Lin, tell me what troubles you."

"Caleb's..."

**...**

"Caleb's trying to save Elyon just like all of us!" Will Vandom scowled at Cornelia, but Cornelia didn't have time for her sheer stupidity. The boy's plan had made sense; he was a rebellion's leader with real life experience. Wilhelmina Vandom was a disaffected, disobedient, snotty teenager who couldn't be bothered showing up on time, much less saving a planet. Will growled when Cornelia caught the auto-lock door behind her, fully intending to follow Will up her stairs.

Will stormed up, moodily, at a speed that made Cornelia jump when Will turned around and faced her. The girl looked bleak in the well lit stair-well. It wasn't a shabby place, and half the rent paid the lights individually lighting each stair from the side of the next one. The walls were a pristine white with edge-lit black lining and Wilhelmina Vandom did not look like she belonged there. "We don't even know who he is! It could be a trap, did you think of that?"

"You admit that he saved you!"

"To _use _me!" Will bit back. Cornelia paused and stood a little taller. Will's tawny eyes glistened slightly with something, and Cornelia bit her lip; silent. It wasn't her style usually, but Cornelia didn't say anything when the little girl's back slid down the pristine wall, sitting with one leg bent, and the other sliding along the step till Will's foot pressed firmly against the other wall. "Cornelia, we can't help anyone - Irma is the only girl who can_barely _use her powers."

Cornelia frowned, perching on the stair below her, still nearly at head level, "Will, where did he save you? How did you meet him?"

"He used his sword to deflect a firework." The girl said it dully, before snorting at the ridiculousness of the thought. Her eyes veered to Cornelia's own blue ones and Cornelia knew she had it in the bag, Will's expression was sincere and sombre and Cornelia listened patiently. "Cornelia, if it really is my responsibility..."

"We can handle ourse-"

"Then I am not putting five people at risk just for Elyon." Cornelia's jaw dropped. The obstinate cow. Cornelia's eyes formed daggers, though her nemesis seemed to expect that, holding her gaze defiantly. It was purely a mistake that Will was the 'leader'. The girl didn't know a thing about looking after the needs of the team. Elyon Brown _needed _them. "And you can shove any complaints through my mailbox-trash box if you don't like it. Go home you manipulative snob, Cornelia."

Cornelia's lips formed a tight line, enraged.

"That stupid Meridian war-hero - as he likes to call himself - is trapped in the real World. Now tell me he's clever, cause as far as I see it he's at least half as stupid as I am!"

"Oh Will," Cornelia glared, standing rigidly above Will now. Her long arms tightly flexed, with her fists clenched till her knuckles whitened. "Not a fucking toddler with a concussion _and _brain damage could be half as stupid as you are!"

Cornelia stormed away then, her thoughts on ways to torture Will as she tried to slam the door; which sadly had a controlled close and she had to see the satisfied smirk of Will as it buzzed and clicked shut slowly.

**...**

Irma had to admit it felt lonely without Caleb. And by that she meant the boy sho'd woke up and cursed her insolence and culture all through breakfast. "I cannot believe you let her have a boy home!"

Irma Lair rest her head on her knuckles, whilst someone less attractive paced frantically, cursing her culture and her insolence. _Teenage girls! _Her father said. _The youth in society_. He waved his arms around, which became all too much for Irma when he continued to do so after picking up a pork pie. "Aren't you one of society's biggest role models?"

Irma jibbed and he threw forward the hand grasping the pork pie. "That is **_exactly _**what I am, and it is **_exactly _**why you shouldn't be doing this to me! Think of the Heatherfield Journal! Think of my blood pressure!"

Irma grinned wryly and raised her eyebrows obviously to the pork pie. "Why don't _you _think of your blood pressure, pops?"

Thomas Lair frowned: it was only a frown like this that encouraged Irma to start calling her father Thomas. A joke that had cropped up when her stepmother and he had become married - because she would much rather call him Thomas at the time than call her _Mother_. And then her little brother had been born and it bacame non-optional because Anna was desperate for Chris to learn to say 'mommy'. Even Thomas did it until Chris spoke, which was somehow quite stomach turning and disgusting. Thomas Lair propped down his pork pie on it's wrapper. "That isn't funny Irma. What am I supposed to do when you bring boys home for funny business. Anna says you told her you only just met him! You are _not _sixtee-"

"Oh dear God dad, have mercy!" Irma rolled her eyes, itching slightly to be excused from the table. No, this wasn't nearly as fun as watching her new friend demolish a dozen eggs and a frying pan of bacon for breakfast. After he simply refused to acknowledge the nutritional values of a fruit loop. Irma grinned, even though she was whining, "I don't think I'd have a chance with that stunner - not after he saw what I did to the last guy!"

Thomas growled. Irma suddenly felt this argument might get a whole lot longer.

**...**

"Why wont you help us?" His voice echoed out hoarsely when the floor creaked; her shadow looming, long and spindly in the morning aurora. Just a slither of sunlight loomed in from a small window, still brighter than all of Meridian. His eyes stung slightly, as he'd been unable to sleep, opposing from the last night. His mind was swimming with his abandoning his post for nothing. The small girl held her breath - wide eyed - looking thin, and awfully fragile on this morning. Caleb could feel that she was afraid of him. "Don't any of you want to?"

"I mean, yeah..." She squirmed, and Caleb's eyes flashed over her unease though she tried back herself into the shadows of a corner. Her voice was miniscule and he wondered who'd granted such feeble beings with such power. He recognised, but wasn't familiar really with much to do with the 'Guardians'. But then, they seemed to be new and bright and shining. An entirely untapped and influential energy source. If they would only give in and help him. This miniature child seemed unwilling to give into and return his eye contact. "It's not really my choice."

"What's your role?" She looked up, startled somehow, and his teeth ground his lip, he murmured gently, "Why are you frightened?"

"You're not scary..." Her eyes were as black as pressed coal; shining almost brightly enough to resemble diamonds. She didn't seem to be, he realized, he had simply mistaken fear over shyness. However Caleb didn't really know anyone who looked at him that way, "You're awfully... and you were hurt and you were bleeding."

It didn't mistake, but he pulled his legs from the soft bench, cracking his neck and subtly grazing his fingers past his chest and shoulder, and the material of the wound there. These people were unfamiliarly filled with kindness. It wasn't extinct in Meridian, but it had to be given sparingly or else you might become so. It was something he found himself uncomfortably comforted by, and he smirked, realizing the girl was still watchful. "We have magic, in Meridian, more advanced than what your Grandmother was using. Not quite like Irma's, but I know someone who'll make my wound just a scratch in a second."

He smiled, hoping to reassure with that. But she only came forwards and picked his hand up. "This doesn't look like a scratch."

"I haven't had much time to fix it." He was impressed; she was observant, and had noticed the burn marks. She - surprised by herself for coming over so quickly - sat next to him, and he pulled a foreign fabric sleeve up. Caleb's green eyes sparked with dry humour though he instantly resented himself for being so shallow, "That, is your leader's fault."

"She burned you?" Caleb wondered how well this girl knew her leader then, how well any of them did. Because she honestly just accepted and believed him. However, he'd said to much and cursed inwardly at being as petty to insult the dignity of a commander: a leader. He frowned down at his hand, trying to recall the blur of things that that sprite- _girl _had said to him.

"No," He sighed, exhaling as his mouth opened, rounding. He felt more tired than he ever had in his life, and he'd only had a full night's sleep yesterday. "It wasn't her, I wasn't thinking - on Earth, I cut a fireball and it only conducted the heat right onto me."

"You!" He turned, confused when her eyes lit and she smiled broadly, "I know who you are! Everyone who saw you thought it was a costume! Will kept getting asked about it and she just wanted to know who the snobby little prince-guy was! I can't believe that was you!"

"I wasn't snobby, I was-"

"Oh, she didn't say snobby!" His eye's widened at the sudden presence of her chatter, the girl was suddenly at ease and incredibly eager to talk to him, "She said-"


	8. The Courage to Choose

There were footsteps, always roaming the corridors. The great long passages of the Infinite City were paved in darkness; on Caleb's return, Drake would light the sequencing lanterns that guided their journeys through the explored realms of the never ending. The world below the world smelt of ash and the dead above them. Once lit, the scented burners could overpower and mask the stench of Phobos. But for nights their forerunner had been absent, and despite the general dislike for the cold hand most saw in Caleb, he had been missed sincerely. The rebellion leader was the sheer reason for this underworld's survival and few paid respect to that until Caleb had left - being slowly, but undeniably replaced by fear.

Rumours spread in these walls easily, and the womenfolk had murmured from the tale of a caricaturist that once the Prince of Meridian had broken off the piece of his soul in order to create Caleb, only reclaiming him would make either mortal, though Drake himself shook his head: if for nothing else he had most definitely seen Caleb (constant ly) bleed. But in 14 years people had forgotten the sunlight and their hope, believing anything. People needed light for their sanity, but it had been agreed that the torches would be lit on Caleb's arrival. "You look weary."

"I must be starting to wonder if he's coming." Drake sighed, leant with his back aganst a warm pillar to the right of the exit's Guard. He pushed his fingers through his moist hair, which grew down his chin coarsely, also drenched in a light sweat where he had for two days not been shaving. The ember box had been relit. Full of the burningvred coal and replaced hourly, readily available to light up the refuge. It was a heavy job because the heat was demanding. Drake felt safest himself when dedicating to this post, and most left him because it was one of the things Drake did do. "He sure isn't dead."

"Of course you would say that. " Aketon smiled vaguely as Drake accepted the bread the older man offered. "You have as much faith in him as Aldarn does."

Drake smirked with the man, who had developed a commitment to offering his son many remarks. It wasn't the same judgement others gave, but Aldarn's relationship to Caleb did neither the father or son favours. Once, when Drake had paid no heed to Caleb, he had heard the man enraged; Aketon had called out, 'He is not your brother!'. Drake sunk his teeth into the small loaf, "Ah, but despite believing Caleb is safe, I'd still quite like him to be dead. I could have his bedroom."

Aketon groaned a loud laugh, and Drake eagerly bit into the seedy roll.

"This is fresh!" Drake exclaimed it happily, but ceased his chewing - his small joke suddenly seeming more unjust. He licked the salt from his lips after wiping his mouth with a sweaty backhand. There was only one way the food was fresh, and Drake realised he wasn't expected to share his supper; they had been given word to dip into reserves. And only one person had the given power to do so without Caleb, who had founded the rebellion with Julian the Greatest, so Drake swallowed the moist glob of roll, wigh a serious expression. "You think he's dead?"

"No." Drake nodded slighty, throwing his leftovers deep into his pocket, because he saw a shortage of food and riots coming. Aketon dipped his head slightly, "But that doesn't mean he'll return from Earth again."

Drake frowned. It didn't sound at all like Caleb.

**...**

By the time that school let out, it was obvious that Hay Lin was exhausted. It surprised Taranee then, that Cornelia was so imminent on them meeting at the restaurant. 'Tara' -she'd been called by Irma- shifted the thick strap of her red, velvet shoulder-bag. The dark skinned girl didn't like to say anything though, as Hay Lin yawned widely, because for the first time without any of this _magical duty _stuff as a reason... She'd been invited. Taranee looked back at the bike rack where they'd picked up her own and Cornelia's, thinking about the red bike still hooked there. "We all know you don't feel like satay chicken, Cornelia."

"Oh, push off." Cornelia then did-so to the wildly grinning brunette, causing Irma to collapse into her and Taranee squeaked when the girl stepped on her foot. Cornelia's blue eyes shot to Taranee, causing her to blush at the odd amount of attention and concern. "Sorry, Tara."

It was catching. Taranee eased the brunette, who she'd semi-caught, out of her arms and pushed the rim of her glasses up nervously; the beads in her hair jingling. "Uh- I-It's fine, really..."

"Quit yappin' about nothing and admit it!" Irma didn't seem phased by Taranee. She instead wrapped an arm around Hay Lin who smiled tiredly, exclaiming loudly, "You just want to get rebellious with **_my_** Rebel Leader!"

"**_Your_**!?" Cornelia almost snorted, and Taranee threw her a queasy smile when the perfectly clear gaze shot in her direction. She was staring to see what the others might've meant when they had called her the 'New Elyon'. Except the mood had darkened significantly when they'd heard themselves, and Tanaree supposed Elyon must've been a really good friend. "I'm sorry, but as if he'd be interested, Irma, you're so- so-"

Irma had flushed an incredibly dark colour though, "I didn't mean _that_! He's not- Ugh! I do **_not_**want to go there!"

"That's what I thought." Cornelia smiled wryly and Taranee raised one side of her lip, mildly disturbed by her own agreement that though attractive, there was something unapproachable about the strange boy - _well_, except for Will and Cornelia. In their own special ways.

"Well, why don't you ask him out then?"

Taranee; in fact everyone in the room, silenced when the absent minded Hay Lin chimed out absently. In all her perfection, and poise, and beauty, Cornelia scowled. Taranee supposed she wasn't often questioned or challenged other than by Irma. "Fine! Watch me!"

**...**

Cornelia Hale. She had the air of confidence about her that most would spend a lifetime trying to imitate well. Cornelia Hale didn't stutter when she was confronted with new situations; opportunities. Cornelia Hale had given Caleb her name. She had gracefully accepted his proposal, set on healing him to her best resources before uniting herself with Caleb's own forces against Prince Phobos' great Tyranny. She was a noble leader. Cornelia Hale's bright eyes were keen and sharp with intent to hear what Caleb had to say; her slim, tall build was not to be mistaken as representative of her power. Caleb had thus no real clue as to whom had elected the yet-to-be-named leader who was arrogant and had no patience to hear his qualms, and yet he had no mind frame that didn't contain her puzzlingly high position. Not to mention her constant absence, this girl had no concept on her title's reality. "Caleb?"

He had zoned out. Caleb frowned at this place's ability to make him do that; something to do with the sounds of chatter and the impossibly humble drilling noise that seemed to emanate from every wall. He had spent hours in this place zoning out, after flashing a bright light which came from the ceiling and was controlled by the wall - as he'd seen Hay Lin do - until he didn't care how or why anymore. He pushed his fingers through his hair, his tired eyes on Hay Lin who smiled youthfully from around the creaky door frame, before disappearing. His hope was lost, and in this stranger's world, he had no single being that cared about that fact. "Hay Lin, I-"

"Hay Lin, uh, went _upstairs_." His grassy eyes flit up to the leading-kind, who grit her teeth through the last word, and Caleb hung his head, his breath loud an heaving. He didn't look up when the girl mumbled slightly, in his peripheral he could see her long hair being wound around a finger at first, but after his head dropped further she closed in. She carefully placed a dainty, but he noticed strong hand on one of his shoulders, leaning forward and breathing in slightly. He supposed it was some attempt of comfort to him. "Do you... I would love to hear more about Meridian. I mean, Will is- You know she isn't really a real leader, I..."

Caleb paused, she didn't seem to have much of a grasp on the language, or perhaps wasn't used to disobeying command for a better cause. He frowned, 'Do you, I' and 'mean, will, is' weren't the sorts of structure she'd spoken in before and he supposed she felt immoral. He peered up to her, taking her hand from his shoulder and pushing himself from the _couch _onto one knee, clutching her hand with sheer desperation. It could've easily been the days he had spent sat in rooms filled with constant loud babbling, it could've been striking him that he had badly injured himself and had lost the two refugees he had been seeking in is last battle. Whatever had caused it, he felt it searing through her and bringing a meaningful look to his eyes when he looked at hers. "Cornelia Hale, you are somehow not the Leader of the Guardians. And I could not possibly understand why, you are radiant of the necessary qualities."

**...**

Irma Lair's stormy eyes glared through the keyhole, though she snorted when Cornelia stuttered - she knew the girl would never pull through. She didn't have boyfriends; Cornelia Hale had many, very brief encounters of flirting. Neither being too forward or not enough; Irma simply had watched Cornelia since she was 8 years old and it was the same: the girl turned into spasticated wreck only when he actually seemed to want the guy. Cornelia giggled. "He said she was extraordinary!"

Irma backed her face from the door, rolling her eyes at Hay Lin who lit up brightly. Irma spoke flatly, "Stop. Please. I can't handle his smoothness."

"She's asking him out!" Hay Lin whispered excitedly, and Irma's grin emerged devilishly, her eye being pressed back against the keyhole. The blonde was fidgeting aggressively; stepping one way, then the other and Irma remembered last time, when Cornelia's idea of flirting had become spilling not once but several drinks on someone. The best part being that everyone knew Cornelia wasn't a drinker. Hay Lin's voice became nasal, in a bad attempt to mimic Cornelia's, "_C-Caleb, well- of course I want us to talk about Meridian!_"

Irma silently prepared for the danger zone, her nose crinkling up and Hay Lin whispering sweetly to the left of her.

"_I actually needed to, though, um-_" Irma frowned, sudden panic in her lungs because Caleb was _her _friend now and they had eaten Nachos on the first night, or at least she had and she'd shown him how to work a telly, and now Cornelia Hale for once in her life was barely struggling! "_Do you want to come get my new history book with me?_"

"HA HA!" Irma slapped her palm on her forehead, rolling back while Hay Lin laughed as well and Taranee stared strangely at her, which only made it seem funnier. Their cover had been blown and Cornelia, Irma knew, would be blushing furiously, and Irma struggled to breathe as Cornelia then Caleb stepped over her, "She doesn't even take histor- Caleb?"

Irma sat up as the upstairs' door slammed.**  
**

* * *

"So, how come you became the rebellion leader, I- Um-" Cornelia's eyes shone brightly blue, widening when his gaze hit her. He moved with a sharp and precise manner that Cornelia couldn't help being caught off guard by, his skin flawlessly youthful with knowing, wise _Chartreuse green_ eyes. Very certain. Cornelia's nervous fingertips slid over books' spines in the dank old bookstore, Caleb seemed unaware of her until she'd said that: his eyes swiftly darting across pages as he scanned books, questioning her about them. She'd never met any boy like him. Cornelia shook herself, with a frog in her throat, coughing a little and wincing at the sound, "I just... You're very young-"

Caleb seemed to permanently look at her with the cross between exasperation and bafflement, but still she found herself growing pinker when her eyes drew the lines of his strong structured face, even the lines of his thick leather coat in the posture he stood - a book outspread over his open palm as he studied her. Cornelia jumped when the book shut, "All of our best men are young and agile. We who have grown in the poverty can train through it rather than despite."

"Oh, yeah- Yeah, I," Cornelia felt ill and embarrassed. She took the book from him and pushed it back into place with too much force. It was often that Cornelia thought of her future; with a bright, stunning doctor or lawyer, and yet she gripped the book spine with a little dread in her heart. He wasn't a doctor or a lawyer, but he was smarter than her. And she'd never thought about the fact that clever men might not want a... vapid girl. She stuttered, "I meant for being a leader, I..."

"Oh."

Cornelia looked at him, with panic and relief that something she'd said had made some sense. Caleb became the stuttering one as he started and abandoned words then, before he frowned at her. The boy might have been 18 she supposed. He looked a lot younger though. Caleb ducked his head and bent down to the bottom shelf, picking up another book he didn't understand nor care about. At least for this moment they would have that in common. Cornelia wasn't dumb, but she wasn't eccentrically clever. Caleb wanted to know how everything in the world worked, but she couldn't really tell him much at all. "So-"

Cornelia froze, and silenced as Caleb's palm clasped firmly over her mouth. His right finger grazed his own lips, his eyes darting to her as he shushed her. He slowly, carefully crouched, taking Cornelia with him and she saw the space on the shelf he must have looked through. Her unease didn't settle when his grip eased, nor when his eyes shone boyishly and he smiled with a wry look, "Cornelia, do you know that man?"

Cornelia leant forward then, she crawled awkwardly in her long skirt across the foot of space between them and peered in the direction Caleb motioned, behind the bookcase. Her teeth clenched. It was a tall man, who stood glancing at papers wearily, and it took her a moment to recognise his slim physique and the length of blonde hair he'd pulled back and tied behind him. Her brows furrowed, realising she'd been faced by his oval glasses today when she entered, and hadn't looked twice as he had greeted her politely. "He took Elyon. He was with her, on her birthday, I bet he took her."

But Cornelia stopped, turning to Caleb.

"He doesn't look alien."

"Do I?" Cornelia looked, stunned with realisation, over the figure of the boy. She recalled Mrs Rudolph's ability and opened her mouth, trying to find the words to ask when Caleb spoke again. "He's a metamorph. He changes shape."

"Just like her and that snake-thing..." Cornelia breathed, her thoughts on a version of Caleb that her mind couldn't quite muster, with thick green skin and-

"Cornelia." Cornelia felt a shock when she turned, finding his now concerned face not an inch from hers. "That is the snake-thing."

Cornelia felt her breath escape her lungs and leave her empty.

**...**

It was unsettling almost, how easily Lord Cedric had slipped into Earth's pleasantly ignorant atmosphere. A mere vault that couldn't withstand force of will had been all that held Cedric away from the Royal descendant's fake birth records. He had slipped in a letter from his removed corpse, obliging Cedric the ownership of the book store. Lord Cedric had business on Earth that Prince Phobos needn't be watching him attend to.

"Welcome," Cedric smirked, as a woman bustled into his small space noisily; the interior had been steady with customers since his arrival had been noticed and Lord Cedric hoped that petty gossip or condolences might bring to him the foreign entity he was waiting for. Phobos was young and if Lord Cedric knew truly that there had been appointed new guardians. His desire would be coming and easily consumed by him. It was legend even unto him, but Lord Cedric held his belief system on that of the Orameres.

**...**

Aldarn's eyes lit with his surroundings. Mourners and conversation broke as the boy stumbled past them. There would be no mourning this morrow; and Aldarn silently cursed his father's conviction. Caleb was an indestructible force like no other, Aldarn had seen it. And for those who believed Caleb had simply walked away there was no where Caleb would go.

It was a pleasant scent that filled his lungs as the oil strung through lanterns burnt and lit the city. A silent proclamation of hope; the Infinite City had begun to get used to the darkness. Within these walls was more light than all of Meridian at this moment, which faded gracefully, Aldarn knew where the City stretched on: seemingly never ending. Aldarn always wondered who had originally built this underworld. "Drake!"

"Shht!" Aldarn faltered when his lips were pressed shut with a thin, fleshless finger. The grim smile of an enemy widened. "I thought as much."

Aldarn could only hope Drake was dead as he held his breath, petrified by Raythor. "I-"

The Captain of the Guard was an unpleasant man. One who seemed all to disconcerted with right and wrong; he enjoyed wavering nimbley in the middle ground. He might never reveal them, but Aldarn knew havoc would be reigned by him on the surface town. "I've got a few nits to pick with your Rebel Leader."

The smile fell from the gaunt man's worn, aged face and Aldarn halt in consideration whether to play ignorance to his ability or simply try to kill Raythor.

Raythor's voice was as rough and calloused as his loose skin was. "But I've got a feeling he isn't around here."

**...**

In the youngest Lin's perspective it was unusual for a room with herself and more than one of her friends to be so quiet. There was a gentle hum of the radiator behind them, that traveled around and up the wall and met almost with the sound of the water draining in and out of pipes above them. There was an unusual scent to the air too, that Hay Lin supposed must be from Caleb; an earthy smell that was fairly pleasant amongst Taranee's almost spiced perfume that reminded Hay Lin of Christmas time. Irma sat with her face scrunched forcefully, making sure that they remembered periodically how upset she was that Caleb had actually gone for Cornelia. "I really like him, he's so sweet and-"

"He's an idiot." Hay Lin bit her inner cheek. There wasn't much room for positivity when she was down and Hay Lin felt anxious for every time Taranee checked her watch.

"But you like him right? Taranee? Don't you like him too?"

Glazed eyes came to focus and blinked behind Taranee's thick round lenses, she bit her lip and looked away from Hay Lin while a finger flew threw the strung beads in her hair, "I don't think we really know him, and Will did but she didn't like him... I mean, you shouldn't pass judgements on a stranger- He just seems to want us for his war stragedies..."

"But we can help." Hay Lin grinned,but it faltered when Taranee looked, stunned at her. Hay Lin wasn't sure she'd seen a passion in Taranee's eyes like this before, but the girl's dark iris' looked almost stung.

"Hay Lin it's real life. Did you honestly think Will was gonna just shake away a risk to any of our life?"

Hay Lin felt her stomach drop, but Irma snorted darkly; finding a deeper and more mood-appropriate sense of humour, "Maybe Cornelia's."

**...**

Caleb's eyes traced the scene carefully, watching as the slender figure glanced over oval spectacles; Cedric noting the click of the door closing. The slight man blended with this world elegantly, much to Caleb's unspoken distress. He smirked charmingly to greet humans, while a troubled voice wavered beside him. Caleb's smile had long gone, and he'd forgotten she could see that. "Why is he opening a bookshop?"

After already retrieving the heir. Caleb's mind had been trying to determine the answer, and unsure, he decided something feasible and just the right kind of worrying would have to do. If not knowing answers was uncommon; being disrespected and refused by a woman was something Caleb wasn't _ever _going to allow happen again. And he intended to return to the other Guardians. "The Earth."

"What?" It was a perfectly reasonable answer, and one he had conidered might even be the right one - before reasoning that the far corners of Metamoor had yet to be claimed by the prince. But when her eyes flew open, stunned, he felt a twinge of guilt; crouched down beside her and being directly subjected to the look of shock and fear that consumed her. Caleb frowned at his concern for her, his course hand resting on hers which clasped a wooden shelf tightly as he gave up the thought of manipulating anything from these people. She was a child, Caleb sighed. Helpless.

"He _might _be. Once the Metaworld is ruled soley by the prince. Which will be easier with the rightful princess-"

"_Elyon._"

Caleb frowned, seeing her trouble to see the priority of what he was saying. "_Her _brother will find tyranny a lot easier if he has _'Elyon_'s' power on his side. It's merely possible that he'd not stop on Metamoor."

Cornelia seemed to consider Caleb here and as the door clicked in the background, he grasped her arm, thinking quickly. He couldn't be seen and Caleb shot around the muddle of shelving and- "Caleb, where are we!?"

In milliseconds; in some elegant fluctuation of the universe, Caleb had pulled them toward the back - the dark, dingy section that he had only noticed when he'd looked for somewhere to hide. But sometime between one step the content of the bookstore had transferred with some place bigger; immensely. "I believe we are quite likely to be in Meridian..."

A surge through him of familiarity told him it was. Caleb took slow purposeful steps, which echoed across the glass-like floor, around hollow corners of book shelves. His fingers reached, yet he did not touch the thick marbled wood of just one of the many book cases. Each standing as tall as a hundred of Caleb. They lined the gigantic room disorientatingly, creating an uneven jumble of knowledge that surrounded them. Caleb turned back, however, to Cornelia and realized that the door home was just behind them. No sign of the simple book shop. Cornelia, his eyes flit to, with her slim lips parted slightly in awe and her bright; unnaturally blue eyes widely searching the library that surrounded them. She didn't say a word, he was glad, not even of home. The greenish light shone down upon them from stained glass windows that stood and curved higher than even the book shelves. Caleb froze. Cornelia gasped loudly and his world began collapsing, "Wow!"

"Cornelia, this is a very dangerous place to be. "

"Too right." Caleb turned, exasperated with himself as a lazy arm hung over his shoulder. Raythor's teeth bore in a seedy grin, though the man swore honour in all of his actions. The warrior was unstable, according to Aketon. A high member of the social chain, and one who led the first siege alongside Cedric. It was said that Raythor had been the one to cut off his own left ear; to scare prisoners. Not that it made him any less cunning. People tended not to look, not to notice, but he presumed Cornelia's eyes would be forced to the jawbone and skull that hung half from his festering loosely hanging skin. His thin tongue ran over the surface of his exposed teeth. "Not my idea of a first date Caleb. Funnily, I was just looking for you."

Caleb frowned, though he had learnt to accept when Raythor's sense dwindled. The decaying figure slung himself forward, and Caleb stepped back towards - he hoped - Cornelia. "You sure do look for me in special places, Raythor. I'm honoured you think me so capable of roaming this deep into the castle."

"I have new prisoners."

Caleb ceased his motion, taking in the deluded creature. It was often, that Raythor came to gloat his honourable work. Prisoners. Beheadings. But Caleb bit his lip, knowing that the pair sent to adopt the Princess were in danger. Green emeralds glazed over Raythor, waiting for the date, but getting nothing.

Or perhaps they were not.

**...**

"Cornelia, run!" Cornelia felt her heart hit her chest dramatically when Caleb threw a dagger that had emerged from nowhere. He grabbed and took hold of her hand and Cornelia felt dizzy in the chaos - as Caleb threw open the heavy, tall doors and yanked her through.

Eyes shot to them immediately. Cornelia's mind froze, but Caleb did not let her body, throwing her into his arm and scooping her slight frame easily, whilst his other hand grabbed and threw the nearest piece of furniture: a chair.

She yelped, squirming as the great brute he had thrown it at fell, weakened by surprise and Caleb threw himself back to back with this creature; rolling over him.

And apparently stealing his weapon. Cornelia winced; suddenly Caleb had a sword that clashed violently with those of the other monsters', as he fought his way forward, though he was outnumbered six to one. "Cornelia, I need you to help me!"

"What?" Her voice was shallow; a mere squeak in a midst all the brawling. Her mind was blank; her body unwilling to leave his arms. Caleb had other ideas and she screamed as he threw her down: in that moment avoiding a heavy axe that fell directly between them.

The owner roared in a daunting rage. He had thick, stone encased skin with leathery sections and his eyes fell widely on her as she looked from him to Caleb who used his sword and strength to throw his current enemy a few feet away, only to be encountered by two more before he had the chance to near her.

The axe, Cornelia stared horridly at, was wedged deep into the marble flooring; which cracked when the great beast unearthed it.

He threw it over his head, growling.

Cornelia shut her eyes tight, wincing.

In one last-ditch attempt, she threw her hand out before her, providing what little defence she had for herself. "Cornelia!"

Cornelia didn't feel pain. There was no crunch of her bones being met by the axe. There was no light, until she, squinting, let her eyes slit open. And she didn't relax, but more jumped backward. Only to hit the hard door just inches from her back, Caleb was pressing himself against a wall not far from her. And the bark of the thick tree had clearly scraped his face, not that he seemed to notice: Cornelia recalled he was fairly injured also, but had seem to forget the fact himself until now as he grasped his shoulder uncomfortably. Maybe he just didn't let it show if he could help it.

Cornelia reached out, her hand grasping the strong tree before her. It had to be three feet wide at least. She stared upward, in the branches where inhuman gargoyle creatures hung, petrified by surprise. Caleb inched around the tree until his nose was an inch from hers and she suddenly felt hot and crimson. "Cornelia, you are amazing!"

* * *

Aketon's weary eyes took in the shudders of his son as Aldarn pressed a damp cloth to Drake's sticky forehead. It oozed a continuous line of thick red down past his nose anyway, with Drake's focus seeming to faze between in and out - he had been lying flat on his back outside the City Entrance when he'd found them: apparently hooked by the back of his collar to a nearby post when Aldarn had originally sought him out. Along with those others at the door. "That's enough Aldarn, you're dismissed."

Aketon frowned when Aldarn and Drake both looked; a drunken smile wobbling across Drake's unkempt features as he foolishly ambled up with Aldarn. The poor boy let Drake hang over him weightily until they stumbled across the door. Aldarn looked far younger in his years than he was, and large dark eyes looked worriedly up at Drake who girlishly snickered at nothing in particular. Aketon turned away from his son's eyes before they came in contact, "Are you sure that we shouldn't treat him?"

Aketon rolled his eyes at his child's concerned plea, "Absolutely. The silly brute put up such a meagre effort that Raythor himself left him in a state of ridicule rather than actually deal with him. He thinks our men are a joke."

Drake was one.

"Alright." Aketon smiled fondly over his shoulder to his son, who had bowed his head and turned back for the door, patting Drake on his way out and nearly knocking the slovenly man over with just that. "Goodnight Drake."

"Aldarn, get up!"

**...**

Prince Phobos crystal eyes lay set on Elyon's pinkish hand as it traced over the thick bark of the tree. The great tree, that had pushed it's way through marble stone and then the stone of the wall beside it in the castle's hallway. It's roots mainly below the floor, one in particular had broken through and wound it's way toward the small staircase where Phobos stood; his hand resting gently on the bannister while his next of kin advanced gracelessly toward the monstrosity that filled the majority of the room. Her greyish eyes fluttered from the tree to himself, and she seemed to breathe in before speaking, "How did it get here?"

Phobos smiled sheepishly, taking a step down to her level and resting his hand on the tree's root as it shrank, dying slowly. "Pixies, my dearest sister."

The last word seemed valueless to him. He had no intention of telling her that the castle was under attack.

Elyon's oversized eyes grew wide, her expression of stunned exhilaration and Prince Phobos became sombre at her childish innocence. A pixie was a nuisance and a troublemaker, and all but extinct from the Metaworld because of it. Long before Phobos' doing. Prince Phobos' fingers slithered over the wood, watching it darken before he took her in his hand. With his free arm, Phobos motioned the stairs. "I should think you might wish to wander?"

"Really!?" Phobos frowned, when she stood expectantly. His eyes fell back on the crumbling bark, now black with virus and he grinned charmingly, redirecting his attention to her.

He strode forward calmly, raising his arm in motion for her to take it. "I shall show you any room that you desire, Princess."

His eyes flit back to the dirtied black hollow of tree bark before the frail shell simply turned to dust and a great hole in the ground.

**...**

"My goodness, your eyes are very blue." Cornelia cheeks flushed a little pink as the guy who'd said it jilted up, appearing to suck in drool at that moment, she found her eyebrows raising, her lip turning up in disgust despite the green skinned boy holding him up repeatedly having had apologised for Drake's concussion. Her very blue eyes drew up his face to the smear of blood that had dried on his skin, she felt that she could smell it though perhaps it was just the memory of Will Vandom the night after the other encounter Cornelia had had with this place. 'Drake' hiccuped and Cornelia blew and outward sigh; Caleb had gone somewhere to be healed or something.

The emerald walls reminded her of Caleb's eyes, Cornelia considered, staring up at them for the sake of something to look at other than an ill man and Aldarn - the green skinned boy - who only seemed capable of staring shamelessly back at her. Cornelia dragged her dainty fingers down her soft cheeks, "Ugh, where is he!"

"There's this waterfall..." Cornelia looked up at the young boy, consciously trying to ignore the minty colour of him with the drilling, _'I am not a racist, I am not a racist, I am...'_ repeating in her mind, which caused her to blush just as the boy did. He seemed embarrassed just to make eye contact with her and Cornelia was thankful, consider the alternative as he started to fall asleep where he sat and Aldarn shook him up. Drake grumbled and Aldarn kept his gaze on the awfully humane-looking male while he spoke, "When you get into the water it regenerates you..."

"Um, sure..."

Aldarn frowned at her confused tone, looking with a little more confidence into her eyes, "If it's cut, it comes together; if it's broken, it fixes."

Cornelia looked down, before turning as the door opened and Caleb emerged, his hair damp, pulling a thick shirt over his wet skin. She swallowed, tracing the contours of his slim physique - his toned abdomen and muscular chest. Cornelia bit her tongue slightly as she stood, her hand stopping him from pulling his shirt down. She instead pushed it up and let her fingers trace his shoulder, her eyes meeting his. "I-it's gone..."

Caleb smiled a little uneasily and her heart hit her throat.

* * *

It wasn't the most ideal of places for a portal to emerge, but Will cocked an eyebrow up at the swirling whirlpool that lay somewhere in the middle of Heatherfield's danker water; it was a river that must at some point lead to a beach. Which would explain the salty smell that had gotten strong as the red haired girl had trudged along the water's edge hoping she wouldn't have to do what she was about to do. Will swallowed, idly considering going home and pretending this thing hadn't shown up on the map. Well, in truth it hadn't exactly - Will had had a hunch which made her feel woozy and only really struck her as odd when the portal did in fact show up on the map where she had vaguely sensed it a good twenty minutes after she had started, for no real reason at all, looking for it. "Duty my ass."

It wasn't the mud that really bothered Will, or the icy cold water but more the fact that she'd realized how often her 'team' would be able to just not turn up or sit on the sideline while Will dunked herself into a big muddy ice river. Whether Will wanted her 'team' or not. Will blew a strand from her hair. She hadn't called them exactly. And Hay Lin had taken the care to beautifully colour and pattern a nice card list of all their details, which seemed a little unnecessary but was a nice gesture at the time.

Like a suicide line poster.

Will grinned, rolling her eyes at her own ridiculousness. She was well aware that especially recently she'd spent far too much time in her own head. She hadn't really seen her mother since they'd moved and Will had no real desire to make herself comfortable in this Godforsaken town: it was like stepping into social purgatory for Will; she was well off enough that in this warped area code she should be considered popular, and _'gritty'_ enough as Cornelia said it, that she simply never would be. It didn't help that when Alchemy - the girl's birth given name was Alchemy - and the gaggle of welcoming girls tried to give her the benefit of the doubt she simply pushed past them coughing loudly over their quiz about the fireworks incident. Mainly, of the boy.

Will scowled. She recalled her heart catching in her throat at the sight of his pain, when his sword heated to a couple hundred degrees. Even through it he'd looked so strong then, and she recalled the look on his face covered in sweat and blood spilling from his shoulder during the battle. It made Will uneasy.

It made Will uneasy that he'd been walking around with the injury like it was a couple stitches and intending to have those girls do the same. Will, well Will might've listened to the kid had he bothered asking even if she couldn't really do anything. But that was the point. Will found herself struggling for reasons to listen to him, and yet unable to shrug off the thought that she could push him through this portal before she closed it.

Did he deserve it?

Nope.

Did it get rid of a likely pain in her ass?

Will nodded, at the inner debate in her mind, sitting herself down on the riverbank that squelched an indent of her shape as she did so.

**...**

Caleb stood eye to eye with Aketon, receiving little more than a short nod despite the raised discussion that had surpassed. The man wasn't happy that Caleb had decided to return to Earth with Cornelia, but her power had decided it for them. Caleb frowned, taking in the echoed sound of Drake throwing up in the distance. He couldn't say he wouldn't have done the same with the lazy rebel. He raised his head and looked seriously to Aketon, "The longer we stay silent, the more unnerved the enemy becomes. No raids, no leaving. Stay out of the forest and for Gods' sakes throw _him _into the water."

Aketon frowned, nodding at Caleb. It was wasteful to make Drake suffer the consequences. Drake had never learnt a lesson in his life, and Caleb knew that Aketon had theories regarding Julian's son and why Caleb had been brought here: had inherited the leadership of the rebellion.

Cornelia, beside him had paled considerably. Many did in the presence of the Mage; it had taken Caleb some getting used to. The woman's eyes shone white without pupils, and her skin was translucent almost, showing the rushing waters behind and around her despite her solid state. Caleb considered her solid, perhaps she wasn't. It would be a great disappointment for him if all of his greatest questions had been directed to a mirage in the water. Her hair was thin, and seemed clear as her face hanging in few strands that just barely covered her head; contrasting greatly the thick robe she wore, heavy looking material that hung even over her head. Caleb pulled Cornelia's shaking hand into his own much larger one. "She is using a great amount of energy to take you home."

Cornelia made a startled noise - quiet, but it echoed out in the silence which startled her more - the girl didn't seem prepared to understand the cataclysmic imbalance of energy required to tear a hole between the fabrics of the universe. The room was long, dark towards the back, the entrance, which came from stairs from above: this being the deepest one person could travel in the Infinite City. Regarding the height of the ceilings and the depth of this room, ignorant folk claimed that below the Mage lay the centre of the world. The room was lit purely by the glowing white water today: the torches had been put out after Raythor's apparent attack. A quarter maybe, of this place was filled with water - it came down from the ceiling from columns maybe, and filtered into a glistening waterfall and pool around her Greatness.

Caleb bowed in respect before approaching the waters - they had begun to swirl and change, leading to a darker place and Cornelia seemed to shiver when they approached. "D-do we need to swim there?"

"..." Caleb opened his mouth, but in answer the Mage almost appeared to smile before the pool became solid water, suspended in the form of a clear and stunning staircase.

It was a surreal experience even for Caleb to step on the manipulated waters of the Mage as they wound down into an apparent abyss of energy. It had the sensation of having a door held open for you and Cornelia grasped him closely to her; her arms winding around his own tightly as they walked until the moment passed by. It all turned quickly, the water liquidising and hitting them like a coarse wave, the entire universe seemed to flip and Caleb had the awful sensation of falling before his face and chest emerged from the water to be faced by an unamused looking scowl he felt he was going to become familiar with.

Cornelia gargled and frantically splashed as she emerged from the water, but the red haired girl's eyes didn't leave his until a third body: a fleeing passling's left the water, obviously intending on use of the portal he'd probably sniffed out until they'd come through it. Will's gaze silently followed it from where she sat, on the muddy bank of the river. "Ew."

Cornelia seemed to almost regain composure and slipped again, and Caleb found himself distracted in pulling her out of the water. He grinned boyishly as he helped her push her own hair from her face, which seemed to remain poker straight as it clung soaking to her face. Her clear blue eyes met his nervously as he peered under her damp mop, "I...can't...swim..."

She shivered, stuttering the words before clutching herself against him more tightly than before and he smiled until the muddy observer stood; her arm outstretched. "You are a very bad person, rebel leader."

"For taking her home?" Caleb frowned, offended. The girl trudged away from him along the river bank, and he eyed her legs and the thick layer of wet dirt attached to them.

"For taking her there!"

"But there's a secret portal thing in the book store and Caleb didn't _take _me anywhere, we were just walking and we ended up in this giant library and there's not really a portal there at all you just sort of appear in the other place and-" Caleb stared, baffled by Cornelia's rambling. It was neither apologetic, nor fearful; she just seemed to feel this obligatory need to speak and he supposed it was quite a lot of information to process, aware that many had the same reaction when experiencing the presence of the Mage. "I used my powers! They're incredible!"

Caleb's expression turned soft, with a small smile as he pulled Cornelia's shivering body toward the river bank. There was no visible limit to his advantage with the four elements in that strength: Irma had been equally as awe inspiring, though she'd said it had taken a lot more effort than came from Cornelia. If he could only harness that advantage. "Fine."

The short girl turned, with her grim expression first aimed to Cornelia, then him.

"Fine. Have your powers, go with him."

"You're going to join us?" Caleb thought of his rebellion, but the girl pushed back a strand behind her ear, revealing abnormally large eyes that he couldn't read; the hazelnut colour seeming somehow hurt or exposed, and yet not at all.

She shook her head. "No."

Caleb frowned and felt a discomfort in his chest, unfamiliar with people confusing him so. He didn't enjoy riddles and she was a maze of them, leading somewhere between the options he had been given. Cornelia sighed, "Then _what_?"

"I don't need you." Caleb's comfort didn't return. He felt unsure of the situation, moreso than he had the entire time: he wasn't entirely sure why they didn't treat her like a leader and he wasn't sure why she -according to them- didn't act like one. He was currently unsure whether he wanted to find out, but a strong part of him felt that opportunity was arising when the small girl waved her hand back to them. "It's my job to close a hole in a ground. I didn't ask for a team. The only reason you get flashy outfits, I figure, is incase something evil comes out of the hole and kills me, or takes over the world."

Caleb remained silent.

"Look, if you get rid of the evil stuff inside the hole, then it wont be coming out will it." Her brown eyes flit to Caleb, boredly, "And if it kills me, I get replaced and I don't have to do this sucky job any more - you get my drift?"

He wasn't sure he was happy that he knew what she meant. "They are _your-_"

"Team." He frowned, not liking that she said it so saltily, "They're not my human beings. They _do _get a choice you know, I chose them but they don't have to choose me."

"..." Caleb rethought his argument as it rose from his throat, realizing that despite all of her ridiculousness, she was correct entirely, and feeling a little uncertain about what these words might do to affect his rebellion.

"If _you _can convince any of those girls to travel through the universe or whatever, and help, you are welcome to them." Caleb stood straighter, not allowing himself a smile as she said the last words; clearly digging an insult as she looked at Cornelia bitterly. "I can't tell them what choices to make or who's arm to cling on to. To be frank, I'm glad it's not mine."

With that Caleb slid from Cornelia's grip and watched the girl trudge away along the river side.

"This is great!" Cornelia's blue eyes shone mercilessly and he raised an eyebrow, "You got rid of her!"

The last call rang bodiless along the river though, as she'd disappeared into the trees._ "If I close these tears with people on the wrong side it's not my problem!"_

* * *

"Without Will?" Irma had said it at least three times before then, but felt the need to repeat despite Caleb's aggravated expression. She didn't really like the idea of doing any of this stuff without the chipper red head, although it had taken a good few minutes to explain in fact, who Will was to Caleb. Caleb sighed.

"Yes. Without her." Taranee seemed to be losing it in the corner. Irma watched her, while Hay Lin grinned widely, excitedly listening to Cornelia's account of the story. The blonde flicked her hand out lazily motioning to the invisible tree trunk that Hay Lin seemed to happily accept as being the size of the Silver Dragon's dining room. Irma considered the chances of the group not getting taken over by Cornelia, then Caleb caught her attention again taking her hand, looking fairly tired and yet restless as though he hadn't expected to be questioned. "Please, didn't you want to do this?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Oh my God Irma, do you really need Will!?" Irma looked up, a little surprised at Cornelia who stood then, knocking the table they'd all sat around. The Silver Dragon had closed not long before, and Irma felt a little embarrassed for a moment, forgetting that the restaurant was empty. It wasn't unusual though, in the past for conversations to become like this - Hay Lin ducked into her dinner happily and Taranee even, remained caught in her own thoughts which seemed to endlessly panic the dark girl. Irma watched Taranee's eyes flicker over possibilities behind her round lensed glasses.

"Is it so wrong for me to wonder why Caleb doesn't-"

"_Will _didn't want us!" Irma felt her chest hitch it's rhythm as she considered Cornelia's exclamation. It didn't seem right, but Caleb looked at the ceiling awkwardly and Irma's face fell. Cornelia wouldn't be hurt more than gleeful, but Irma could see Hay Lin's wide smile fade and Taranee paying Cornelia more attention. "We can be a team, or you can be on _her _team. Will doesn't care whether you're on it, but then it's all a game for you anyway right?"

"I wanted to help!" Irma growled, hating the way Cornelia could twist everyone's words to make them sound like the bad guy. "I just said that I wanted to help! Cornelia just pretend you care that Will's not here for a second - I only wanted to know why!"

Irma could feel Taranee's gaze on her and she flushed pinkish. Cornelia simply pushed her long hair from her face, sitting down again. "Well now you do know."

The brunette bit her lip, silence falling over the girls like a blanket: the large room beginning to feel warm and uncomfortable. It made Irma almost relieved when Caleb spoke, pointing his finger against the table and leaning forward; his arm curled protectively around his plate. She sighed, but listened albeit a little grimly. "If any of us are going to help the rebellion, we're going to need a portal."

Irma felt the back of her neck prickle and exchanged a look with Cornelia - who looked as though she meant business with a near threatening seriousness to her - that told her something bad was about to come of this '_super group'_.

Caleb's emerald green eyes were cunning. "Your l- she seems to find them like it's easy. Which it's not."

"Ooh!" Irma felt like she'd made too quick a decision, but Hay Lin happily threw her hand up, offering everything they knew. "Grandma gave us a map!"

Caleb seemed stunned for a moment, then, cocking a crafty eyebrow he grinned trickily. Irma felt a pang of sympathy for Will at that moment, considering Taranee's reaction, which was to look more frightened than previously. "_Really..._"

The cogs seemed to be whirring in Caleb's mind.

"And your friend has the map..?"


	9. Divide and Conquer

Heatherfield Institute had a buzz to it: November had barely begun, but in the night a froze had glistened over the town making Will feel a little more upset that her jacket had been ruined. She slumped forward in a blue turtle-neck, seething slightly from the chill as she leant against her locker. It felt quiet, despite all the noise, and Will's cinnamon eyes searched the halls, meeting the gaze of Matthew Olsen, who she'd noticed watching her for a good duration of his conversation with the other well known members of the band. He smirked, sending her a nod of defeat when he realised he'd been caught.

Will was waiting for Cornelia.

She was sure that Hay Lin knew, because she'd been housing the rebel leader, but Hay Lin would brush off a beating if whoever did it apologised. She was simple natured and Will had spent the night staring at the pretty list of numbers, wondering why she let Caleb get into her head like that. It wasn't that she took it back, it just... wasn't how she'd meant to say it. Will drooped her head slightly, pouting as she cursed herself: she'd managed to make it sound mean that she was giving them freedom of choice. Will slammed her head back on the metal door behind her. "Don't injure yourself."

Will whirled then, to Cornelia who idly smiled, obviously finding Will funny as she drawled the comment. Will scowled at the mirth in Cornelia's confident aura; the ooze of relaxed certainty, realizing Cornelia was never going to give Will the benefit of the doubt. She had lost. Cornelia had won. "Don't medieval boys like a _silent _woman."

Will pushed out her bottom lip distastefully and held back a smile when Cornelia's expression turned murderous.

"Will?" Will felt her self-assurance seep down to the floor and evaporate as Irma looked at her sceptically. The girl was wounded in the same way Will recognized from herself; just because it was concealed didn't mean Will couldn't see it. Irma's stormy oceans met Will's murky brown, then flit away, betrayed. "Are you joining the swim team today?"

Will frowned. "What?"

The brunette pouted up at Will slightly, looking exasperated. "You swim. Hay Lin says you swim. Try outs are today. Are you going?"

"Oh." Will felt stung. She didn't know why, and maybe it was more hurtful to be considered a friend despite what she'd said than have their backs turned on her. She wasn't really used to not being ignored. Will bit her lip, shyly pulling at a loose string in her jeans, "I didn't know- I-"

"You've got your suit though. You're doing the swim-block in gym, aren't you?"

Will was baffled, not entirely sure how to respond to Irma. She hadn't really thought about _any _extra curricular activities, but her brows furrowed decisively and she felt a new sense of purpose to her. "Yeah. Yeah, I am gonna try."

**...**

Hay Lin swallowed, her heart fluttering nervously as Will flashed a shy smile, walking by. Irma flushed red when Hay Lin looked at her and Cornelia simply held the same angry frown she'd had on since the day Will had arrived in Heatherfield. Taranee made a pained noise beside her, "This is wrong, Hay Lin!"

"Tee..." Hay Lin's gaze remained on Irma, who looked back guiltily. It was surprising how much Taranee had spoken this morning and the night before: it had been her who'd blurted out Will's keen swimming ability, not that it had seemed to be actively against the redhead so much as Taranee getting caught up in the moment of Cornelia saying they needed to have the map in the locker, but get Will out of the empty building. It might've been just to stop Irma from unjustifiably pulling the fire alarm...again. Hay Lin smiled a small, unconvincing smile to Taranee. "Sometimes the fate of a whole world depends on you stabbing your friend in the back over and over until you have the map to Meridian.."

"_Ew..._" Taranee's face contorted with confusion and disgust, but Hay Lin sighed.

"We can't just let her close them _all_, and we'll tell her right after we get out again," Taranee seemed surprised by Hay Lin's seriousness, something the small girl wasn't always comforted by. Hay Lin smiled anyway, "Besides, Caleb said Will might not even need to close all the holes if we defeat the prince!"

"Or die."

Hay Lin raised an eyebrow, choosing to brush off Taranee's dark tone, "Nah, we wont die. We've got super powers."

**...**

Cornelia frowned, watching the clock tick. The school cleared around them, and Hay Lin seemed to only grow more nervous beside her for it. Irma was slumped over the canteen lunch table, groaning loudly, "This is wroooong!"

"Will's wrong." Cornelia hissed, feeling anxious as the door swung open, only for her to be met by the wide eyes of silent Taranee. "Taranee, did she go?"  
Taranee nodded, a little sheepishly and Cornelia sighed, feeling relaxed. Her body straightened and she turned to the others with composure. Hay Lin smiled brightly. "So, do we go!?"

"Just wait until everyone's left." Cornelia darted a look at Irma. The girl had let out another wail and it was beginning to sand down Cornelia's patience. "Trust you to suddenly develop a conscience. Irma, your dad is a cop. You love crime."

Irma's voice was muffled with her face still jammed against the tablecloth, "I've developed a new perspective on committing it."

"Don't be a baby." With that Cornelia looked up in time to catch the final school bell - it always rang twice for some reason, but gave a nice inclination now as to how long they should be waiting. Cornelia strode purposefully to the door and turned back, the African American fidgeting with her fingers, Cornelia nodded her head back, "Taranee, are you coming?"

Taranee looked startled, as though she'd forgotten the plan. The girl hurriedly followed and Cornelia placed a hand on her back as they made they're way to the adjoining swimming pool; to the spectators' seats.

**...**

Irma groaned out, loudly. She pushed her palm across her paling face and glanced behind them again as she and Hay Lin crossed the hollow hallway. The clock's tick echoed in the desolate building, while the faint sound of laughter and cheering came from the distance to remind her of what they were doing. "Hurry up Hay Lin! We've only got ten minutes till the cleaners get here!"

"Oh relax Irmy! Squirmy Irmy!" Irma did not relax and in fact grabbed Hay Lin roughly at the arm instead, yanking her along towards Will's obvious and grubby looking locker. Hay Lin gleefully bent over a piece of graffiti she'd mentioned days ago was new, and read, "'You never get any sleep with redheads'.. What does that..?"

"That's pretty poor even for Uriah." Irma snickered, the bloke was ginger himself so she figured he wasn't keen on making a better joke. Irma took a moment then and spat on her hand, pressing it against the cold locker and wiping it off. She felt a little tug of warmth before she stood back and pointed. "Hay Lin. Open the door!"

Hay Lin threw her hand up in a comical salute before pressing her ear against the metal and fiddling with the combination code.

**...**

Will Vandom breathed, quietly pulling on her suit and finding herself uncomfortable with the silence that she used to revel in; the echoing laughter of people in the background mixed with the chlorine scent that somehow urged her mind to more freely think. Will stood straight in her dark cubicle, grasping her thick towel between her hands; it was wet from earlier and she intended to leave it out to dry while she did this. Will leant back on the cubicle. While she joined civilisation and finally admitting to being an actual part of this town.

The thin girl let her toes take in the coolness of the damp tiles for a moment before she flung the towel over the door and headed for the bright lights of the competitors pool. She didn't have her cap, but for the moment Will was glad; she couldn't deal much with looking any more ridiculous.

Will felt a heat strike her, when she finally came out on the platform around the pool. The seats were by no means full, but when Will had swum, she'd be lucky if her mother generally turned up. Will swallowed, walking past gaggles of slim, long legged girls who stood in twos and threes, already knowing each other mostly from last year she suspected. She pushed a curtain of red hair behind her, realising she hadn't showered yet and ultimately giving up on the notion of one. She wasn't going back past them now. Instead Will slid between a pair of groups, deciding on lane 3 to sit at so that she was ready with a place. Will bit her lip; her heart fluttering.

**...**

Hay Lin frowned, with her ear pressed against the cold metal of the locker door, listening to the whirring and clicking of the locker key; realizing that she wasn't entirely sure what she was listening for. There was supposed to be some sort of outstanding clunk when she got to the right number, she thought, but Hay Lin found instead that she was just listening to a whole lot of clicking. "Well?"

Irma, stood beside her, was getting impatient and Hay Lin felt her face starting to burn, a guilty grin forming across her face, "My deep listening hasn't exactly been perfected... Yet..."

"What?" Irma's swirly blue eyes darted up to Hay Lin accusingly. Hay Lin moved her head from the door, only to have it pushed back into position, "Listen again!"

"I can't!"

Hay Lin yelped, with Irma having had accidentally pulled at one of her long braids of black hair. The brunette let go, leaned forward and hissed in a way which somehow sounded like shouting in the wide, empty corridor. Hay Lin gulped, "_You mean to tell me, that you _can't open IT!?"

Irma's nose was but a millimetre from her own. "Sor- Well, ki- Yes. Yes, that's pretty much it."

She wasn't unfamiliar with Irma's silent dance of frustration: usually because of things like her locking her own keys in the house or Cornelia...talking. The brunette wouldn't quite be able to grasp the words she needed to scream and instead substituted with a lot of profane movements and jerking 'dance moves' while she presumably swore in the comfort of her own mind. Hay Lin waited quietly until she was finished, at which point Irma turned to Hay Lin. "So. How are we gonna open this thing?"

"What, I don't know?" Hay Lin chirped, "Don't you have any ideas? I came up with the last idea!"

"THIS," Irma threw both hands forward, motioning to the locker before them, "WAS YOUR IDEA!"

Hay Lin beamed, "Exactly!"

**...**

Taranee fiddled silently with the beads in her hair, walking toward the open seating behind Cornelia. She wasn't sure if it was really to keep watch, Taranee considered, glancing at the red haired girl who sat with her toes in the water. All the other swimmers oozing a lot more excitement. Taranee's heart thumped heavily, realising how upset Will appeared to be. The girl's head hung, and Cornelia grinned prettily as she watched it do so. "What did Will say?"

Cornelia looked to her with a pleasant surprise, innocently sinister; it wasn't in Taranee's nature to watch someone take glee in another person's pain. The blonde found a spot and sat, with her eyes reflecting the pool as she looked out to it, "Will said that we were doing our job, on whichever side of the portals."

"Portals?"

Taranee repeated the word thoughtfully, and Cornelia nodded, making eye contact. "Yes, Caleb calls them portals. It makes sense, doesn't it. Tears just sounds silly - it's not just a rip, it's a doorway through reality."

Cornelia seemed quite happy with that, but sceptically Taranee turned to the water; pushing her glasses a little further up her nose. The place smelt strongly of chlorine that tickled her nose, and she didn't really find much room to think with all the noise pollution. It might've been why she sounded so blunt as she said it. "You seem to know an awful lot since talking to Caleb."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Taranee felt a small smile that she masked, turning back to Cornelia nonchalantly. "Nothing."

**...**

The air was thick in the swimming pool. Will was used to the sensation, and yet something about it didn't seem right. She blamed the people: her swim team had had all of six members who tended to keep to the point. The people here seemed to be far more lax, enjoying the spirit of try outs with nearly as much enthusiasm as the other sports. _Real _sports. Will took a breath in a moment of bravery, and peered up through her crimson locks.

People were happily leaning over the barrier; cheering even though the actual swimming hadn't really started. A member of staff crouched beside her, and she looked up a little lostly to be faced by a great bushy moustache and an unreadable expression from Professor Collins. He seemed concerned, handing her a clip board, "You'll need a 3.0 average at least to be involved in extra curricular activities, Miss Vandom."

Will's brown eyes met his, stubbornly. She got it then, staring at him blankly as she clicked the pen.

"That means no skipping, no missing and no _sleeping _during class." It had happened once. Will scowled, turning away from him and glancing over a list of names she didn't really recognise. She didn't really listen to anyone though. She snorted at the loopy writing of _'Sandra' _who seemed keen to take up several line. Will didn't know why she was getting into this.

She smirked, wryly glancing to the side at Professor Collins, "So, are you a swimmer, or...?"

The man pushed the clip board towards her, urging her to just write her name. His expression was steely. "I like to see who I'll be missing for half of the semester Miss Vandom."

"I get out of history!?" Will perked up, smiling, before blushing at his bitterly distraught look. She felt a little bad and shrugged, "I mean, hey I'll still swing by!"

"Oh, absolutely." Will's awkward smile fell when he grinned cunningly, taking back the now signed try-list and glancing at it darkly. "Considering what's left of your lessons require a 100% attendance for you to pass."

"What!?" But he was gone, and Will dropped her head while her heart rate elevated quickly. She looked up grimly only to have her mood dampened further, seeing blonde park it's prestigious ass in the 2nd row of the audience.

Will's eyes moved further left to see Taranee shifting uncomfortably; no Irma in sight. Will's heart sank. It took her a moment then, before suddenly she frowned, looking up at Cornelia who met her stare grinning forwardly. Will's brows furrowed, wondering what Cornelia was doing in the audience, staring at her, looking so ha- Will felt her ears rush with blood and noise and air and the cool sensation of the water on her toes seemed to dull out as she realized she'd been duped by a 14 year old brunette.

**...**

"**That rat!**" Cornelia had been rifling quietly through her purse for a mint when Will's voice echoed out over the Pool Hall. She looked up; along with the entire contents of the room, to the stiff necked redhead who might as well have steam pouring from her ears as her face turned beetroot with rage. Cornelia clipped her purse shut, shoving it into her backpack, which she swung over her shoulder; standing.

"Time to go!"

She chirped breezily, pushing Taranee a little at the shoulder and the dark skinned girl looked confused for a moment; then shocked. "We're here to gloat!?"

"You're clever, Taranee," Cornelia smiled, her voice laced with honey as she directed the girl towards the exit: revenge in her mindset, considering that Taranee probably wouldn't be trying to make any subtle comments again. "Why don't you figure it out."

"**That freaking RAT!**" The girl's dark eyes flew up to Will's skinny form, and Cornelia too, took one last look at the picture. Will looked as though she were about to implode with rage and Cornelia let her eyes meet the short girl's one last time as Will made for the changing rooms.

**...**

Will stormed into the changing rooms; pulling her towel from the door and stuffing it into her bag; soaking, before realizing her jeans were at the bottom of it and howling with rage. "Will, are you alright?"

Will didn't have time for Mr Collins, and pulled her shirt over her head, swimsuit still on, climbing into her jeans as she fell out of the cubicle onto the slippery and pooling wet tiles. Will didn't flinch though, cursing under her breath as she forced her trainers onto bare, wet feet. She couldn't believe she'd been so vapid: to be outmatched by Cornelia! Will's teeth bore when a hand grasped her arm, pulling her up helpfully, "Get out of the changing room you perve!"

It was harsh, but he backed off and Will clambered to her own feet; slamming her body full force out of the door and taking sprint though precious minutes had been lost.

**...**

Irma felt a layer of sweat coating her forehead from the anxiety. The cleaner hadn't arrived, but nor had any good ideas. "Oh! We could wait till she takes it out and mug her!"

"We can't _mug her_!" Irma shrieked, though she found her words being lost to Cornelia's groan as she and a startled looking Taranee made their rushed way towards them. Cornelia didn't have to ask, Irma knew, and for once she understood why the blonde was wondering why she trust them. "Cornelia..."

Cornelia had, swiftly, opened her own locker and Irma herself felt a little taken aback when the girl pulled out an ice skating medal - _Irma was aware Cornelia had dozens, but also that they didn't generally belong in her dark locker; rather, the prize cabinets her parents provided _- and swung it against Will's locker, with such a force that the head of the pirouetting skater cracked right off and fell to the ground. The door however swung open and Irma frowned, realizing that she'd seen the broken lock before with some great prom fiasco Cornelia had been well above... Cornelia grasped the aged parchment and frowned deeply at Irma and Hay Lin. "Why do I ever expect anything from anyone but myself!"

"You- You're a criminal!" Irma grinned widely as Hay Lin faltered - it seemed funny that Hay Lin didn't consider it rule-breaking to try and listen to the lock code to open Will's property. Speaking of whom seemed to on-que clamber around the corner.

**...**

"You **_BITCH_**!" Will threw her spilling gym bag across the hall at them, taking a final sprint, but freezing up as Cornelia wiggled her fingers and the room began to rattle. She waved her arms out, looking down at the floor as she braced the concentrated earthquake. When she looked up, however, she was alone. "Y-you..."

Will kicked the floor frustratedly, scooping her bag back up and realizing what a fool she'd just made of herself. Will took a deep breath, recovering when she tripped on something on the floor and finally pulling the dented locker door open. Her eyes fell on the cold pink rock and her heartbeat softened. At least it hadn't been as bad as she'd thought.

**...**

"How could this be _worse _than I'd thought!"

Taranee wailed, as Cornelia beamed down at the empty piece of parchment. To her dismay, and only making her more tense, Irma seemed to be over her guilt, smirking and jabbing at the fragile page. "Do you think we should have told Caleb it's a blank bit of paper?"

"No, _duh_." Cornelia's eyes rolled upwards and she turned her nose at the brunette; flicking the ancient sheet before rolling it up expertly, "Caleb doesn't _need _the map to find portals. He just _needs _Will not to have it!"

"I think Caleb wanted the map to find portals."

"Are they joking!" Taranee frantically motioned the pair to Hay Lin, who nodded happily - obviously taking her question literally and thinking Taranee was asking if what they were doing was exchanging jokes. Taranee ignored the girl, feeling her heart's rhythm fluctuate with anxiety. "You guys realize we just committed a felony!"

The three looked unperturbed.

"Not just a felony! No, it's stealing when Hay Lin opens it up _subtley. _No, we had to all stand around watching Cornelia throw a great dent in Will's locker!" Taranee panted slightly, feeling the effects of her panic start to push adrenaline through her body. "Irma, didn't you say your dad was in the Police!"

"Makes me his last suspect." Irma winked playfully, which made Taranee's stomach churn queasily. It didn't help with Irma's side note, "No, but seriously he always thinks it's me."

"It always _is _you!" Cornelia smiled. What had Taranee signed up for; the brunette puffed her chest to the taller blonde.

"I think I've seen your handiwork before, haven't I?"

"No!"

"That's right, you weren't bothered when they announced last year they weren't calling a junior prom queen!"

"I wasn't!"

Taranee found herself slumping down to sit on the curb of the sidewalk, finding little comfort when Hay Lin climbed down beside her and put a small hand on Taranee's back. Taranee missed Will's quietness. "Don't worry, they're joking! We don't really do this all the time!"

"Gee, that makes it better..."

* * *

Caleb's fingers drew heavily over the yellowing parchment paper. It was aged and torn, but more importantly the paper was near enough blank. Light shaded areas gave the impression that this could in fact be the early stages of a map, but there were no true streets or outlines. Caleb grimaced; the 'Heart' around the thin girl's neck unlocked all the answers and without her everything would become more difficult.

The air here, at least, was crisper. At first he hadn't enjoyed the unusually clean, but returning to the dim planet Metamoor reminded him of how much better this was. The morning light woke him peacefully alongside the sky: it's cloudless translucence reflecting into his mind to help him think and recall. Caleb looked up, peering along the muddy footsteps at the riverside. The air was stagnant, but the fact was actually a good sign. He could hear the gentle buzzing and flutters of creatures that invisibly resided in this area, not like the loud and charismatic city. The longer Caleb frowned down at his map, the more he heard: twigs snapping, and gentle rustling. It was difficult to have to assume on this planet, that every noise was not an enemy.

If it was not of Earth, Caleb knew it was a passling. He frowned down at the small black sack leant on his feet. It had smelt for the duration of his journey, but currently the slight smell of festering foodstuff from the Lin's dumpster had been masked by that of the creature he'd be luring with it. "Are you here, Varmint?"

Caleb's bright eyes flashed to a breaking twig just over the river's water. He kicked his sack forward, spilling a part of the content and then resting his foot on the bag once more. Silence followed his movements.

There was one thing, that they passling creature's smell was not subtle, but had they the urge to hide they could blend easily with their surroundings in a wood: their skin a mould-like colour, with wildlife often homing itself over them. Because unless a merchant, a passling's ambition in life would tend to be finding a source of food and then feeding from it quietly until it was dead. Only in the new age of Phobos had they been known to become greedy, seeking the languages of other species and trading off what they could of their rank goods in hopes of a finer quality. Caleb squinted through the shadows, looking for their signature yellow eyes. He murmured under his breath, "Are you here..?"

"No." Caleb grasped his small knife in it's sheath, at the ready because he'd hoped for a wild one. A passling that had surpassed the evolution and that he could simply tie around the stomach until it smelt out it's way home. Their only other known use: hospitable for shrubs; able to withstand a poor nutrition; keen nose for fluctuating energy.

"My name is Caleb." Caleb spoke loudly, standing tall and looking out to the woods. He stepped forward to where it's voice had croaked out, scanning the thin layer of foliage that surrounded the river. Had the bag behind him not rustled, the creature would have been out of site with it's loot long before Caleb noticed.

The hunchbacked fellow sat unaware of Caleb's watching, gnawing a bone and speaking into an Earthly contraption. "Go away, Caleb."

The words came however, from the river side again. Caleb knelt beside the passling, who didn't seem too fussed when Caleb showed no threat; mercifully raising his hands in show of solidarity. It had a friendly, wrinkled face, but looked young and when it decided to grasp the heavy bone it was tearing meat from Caleb picked up the square box. It was dotted with holes and a red square that he pressed, creating a static crackle. Caleb's brow raised and he tentatively leant his mouth toward the item, looking to the trees. "You're a clever little scavenger, aren't you."

"Blunk not scavenger." Caleb grinned, a little bemused until the critter's yellow eyes took in the boy's full face for the first time, "Blunk back-scratcher."

Caleb frowned at the self-proclaimed slave, he looked around the woods wondering if it had got lost when another portal had closed, or if there was perhaps something more residing on this 'safe' world. Caleb ignored it's startled noise when he strung the rope around the thing's belly, "Not anymore."


	10. Finding Meridian

Sharp cerulean glazed over with an uncertain fear. The stonework of the castle building had not been refitted from whatever tragedy had commenced; a decaying shadow clawing it's way from the great chasm that protruded from the marble he stood on. Cedric knelt down, ignoring the clench of his stomach, and scraped his slender fingers through the dark dust, that fluttered in greyish particles when he disturbed it. He brought his hand to his jaw and sniffed: ash, and soot. He did not recognize the magical scent, but Cedric didn't need to. He recalled the waves that had taken his battle.

The Guardians of the Veil were taking on a battle that they were in no way prepared for.

"Cedric." Cedric looked up; Elyon's eyes were wide and guilt ridden, and he supposed the girl had been forbidden from the dangerous area. Cedric stood tall and rubbed his fingers, dispersing the gist of the ash. He raised a cocky brow, assuming that she was in more trouble than he according to her mind. It humoured him to see her frozen on the stairwell; barefoot with only a breezy nightgown between the eyes of others and her young body. Lord Cedric had seen the Earth realm and knew it was in her nature to take her dignity for granted and he averted his gaze from her eyes to remind her that. Elyon flushed, visibly, "I-I heard... I couldn't sleep well..."

"Very well, Your Greatness." Cedric quipped, bowing his head and bypassing her up the stairs. He stopped at the top, though, turning to find her greyish gaze on him, and with a wave of his hand the stone walls achingly grumbled. They began to rebuild themselves and Elyon's face became awe-inspired by the parlour trick. Cedric grinned faintly, feeling his tense thoughts fade as he backed in and approached her. "Would you like to learn it?"

Elyon bit her cheek from the inside and nodded furiously. He placed his hand on her back and leant his lips an inch from her ear.

The man mumbled quietly, his smirk present as he explained to her. It might even be the first real test of her powers, and Cedric watched fervidly when she finally raised and outstretched her hand. There was no sound for a moment: Lord Cedric's eyes fell to her face which contorted, her eyes closed in concentration. The tiles began to quiver and Cedric frowned, throwing his own hand up before forcing an encouraging smile. Her eyes opened to the crackling of marble reattaching itself. Cedric's hand pat her back gently before he turned again to leave, "You will become a great enchantress, my Princess."

"I will..?"

Lord Cedric bowed his head in a nod, his mind once again finding the image of the waves crashing toward him. "Yes, you will."

**...**

"And Wilhelmina Vandom, surprising everyone there..." Will shrank into the back of her chair, feeling her blood boil at her cheeks and darkening noticeably as Professor Collins' eyes met hers defiantly; obviously enjoying calling out the rota this morning as the class erupted in a fit of murmurs and Cornelia - Will could see in her peripheral vision - sat up, shifting a little at the mention of her name, "Did _not _in fact, make the Heatherfield swim team. Better luck next year, 'ey?"

Laughter broke out and Collins smirked. It didn't help that Will Vandom was at the end of the alphabetical order no matter which name they had gone by; Will silently cursed her mother for being such a fool as to not realize humility would follow Will the rest of her life from this name. There had been no point in traipsing up to the Silver Dragon the night before either: Hay Lin was unsurprisingly out, and she'd been told that her grandmother was sick - probably the only reason her parents thought Will had asked to see her. Will didn't feel like telling the little old woman that her precious Granddaughter was a plotting thief. "Hey, what was so important that you flipped out in the swim hall?"

Will's eyes rolled up as she was dragged from her thoughts, and she slowly turned her head to glare at one of Uriah's troublemakers. Will snarled. "I had an infestation problem."

Everyone had seen the state of her locker: Will had, for whatever reason said she'd forgotten the combination code and the word had got out.

"In my locker."

"Oh yeah... _Infestation_." Will's eyes travelled to meet Cornelia's, who challenged Will with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Will remained silent. There was something that held her from saying that Cornelia Hale had broke into her locker to steal a very old, blank piece of paper. It sounded like laughter, and Will was hearing enough of it.

The bell rang for second period and Will pushed herself up, ignoring the jeers when her chair clashed loudly with the ground, she evacuated the classroom.

* * *

Time travel wasn't supposed to be a thing. It was fantasy, Taranee frowned, and yet so was the art of growing a tree in a millisecond from pure willpower. Here was the same situation she'd found herself in several weeks ago. In fact, it had been more than two months, before she'd started sitting alone that Taranee last stood with her lunch tray, hoping for a sign of where to sit. It might have been difficult to spot Will; a tiny clump of red hair hunched over her lunch quietly in the energetic lunch hall, were it not for the attention she was getting as Uriah Dunn slid his arms straight to either side of her - leaning over her arched back. Taranee couldn't hear what he said, but a couple tables around Will's erupted with laughter and Taranee felt her eyes getting itchy.

The dark skinned girl forced her eyes shut and pushed her glasses up her rounded nose, turning away. Cornelia Hale, for the least part, wasn't making herself the centre of Will's subjection and instead had sat as though the world was the same peaceful place, smiling brightly as Irma and Hay Lin occasionally glanced over. It was the unsettling world of teenagerdom that made Cornelia cruel, not the power she possessed and Taranee frowned at herself, taking the open place beside Irma. "Taranee-"

"You don't have to sound so happy," Taranee felt her heart quiver when Cornelia's bright expression hardened, but pressed on. Realizing Cornelia had possibly never felt challenged by authority or human decency in her life. Cornelia Hale seemed to be the kind of wealthy that got made into television shows. And Will... Taranee didn't know what Will was, but she wasn't necessarily deserving. "Will is a person. You know that?"

Cornelia's aggression changed, and the girl looked bitterly down at her lunch. Taranee swallowed back the fear that urged her to immediately apologise and Irma, seemingly impressed, raised her eyebrows; grinning. "Well... Hay Lin, what did Caleb say about the map then..?"

**...**

Caleb had hoped the scent would fade. He'd known it wouldn't. Instead, the yowling passling's odour seemed to have stopped affecting his nasal passage so much as it was physically causing pain to his brain. There was a stinging headache starting to make Caleb feel nauseous and it didn't help that it might be days before a passage was found to another world. Caleb frowned, his eyes remaining on the toadish being they'd been staring at for hours where he sat on the roadside, "How come you didn't smell the bookstore?"

"Smelt bookstore." The critter's ability to speak didn't render it good company and Caleb wasn't sure whether he'd prefer the passling's language to be more unintelligible, it appeared to have named itself and Caleb was dubious of the makeshift rags it wore as a form of clothing. They did however make it's arms and legs distinguishable which helped Caleb watch for the semi-intelligent beast escaping. "Smelt bad."

"Bad, huh." Caleb wrinkled his nose at the thought of being able to smell someone's decency as a general ability. He figured he'd rather not be able to tell sometimes; half of the rebellion was made up of criminals and thieves. Their sweat and blood alone was enough to fill the Infinite City. Caleb blinked, finding his eyes glazing over as they did on Earth, and grabbed the passlings meddlesome fingers as they clasped onto his tightly wound knot in the rope. Caleb frowned, "I guess you're too familiar to smell yourself?"

"Blunk smell?" Caleb choked.

**...**

Blunk did not take well to be tied up like a small pet. The passling smuggler was neither bright in a humane sense, nor dim for as a passling it was fairly impressive that the critter could speak, though broken,_understandable _English. Hay Lin herself was certainly impressed, and she thought it best to smile kindly through the smell when Caleb simply grunted that she couldn't expect more from a mouldy beast that had never in it's life taken a bath.

The pair of them were on a curb, looking fairly out of the norm as they casually sat: or Caleb did, while the froggish male looked rather distressed and upset by the matter. Hay Lin's fingers itched and she forced them into the pockets of the colourful shorts she was wearing. Caleb seemed amused when she swung her body lamely one way then another, with far too much energy at any given time for her own good. It was a characteristic that her parents seemed more and more frequently to disapprove of; especially when she flew in, _over-exciting _her grandmother. "So... You just sit here?"

"Until it smells a portal."

"Cool!" Hay Lin smiled encouragingly, but Caleb's look told her that he wasn't in the mood for encouragement. She twisted her mouth to one side, racking her brain for a way to cheer him up, blindly bending down and scratching the chin of the smooth, yet somehow furry creature. Her mind, as it wandered further, seemed to grow empty - a meditation-al state according to her Grandma, Hay Lin always remained a little self conscious of it.

"Hay Lin! Don't touch that, you will catch a disease!" Hay Lin jumped when her hand was torn away, the Blunk looking crestfallen when Caleb tore her stroking hand from it's flesh. Hay Lin pouted, feeling a little sorry for the passling. She dug into her bag and pulled out a half-eaten candy bar, throwing it in front of the toad that looked at it sceptically. Caleb only scowled more fiercely, "You don't feed it either! It will only come back and beg!"

Hay Lin perked up, "Aw, like a puppy!"

"No." Hay Lin grinned at this, because she wasn't sure whether or not Caleb was yet to know what a puppy was. He had a habit of acting like he knew what he was talking about, which she'd found confusing for a while, but now only giggled at him. The boy hadn't seemed to understand what she meant when she'd asked how old he was, but someone said something about him being 17 or 18 and it made Hay Lin a little bashful when people from her school walked past them, talking to each other. "Hay Lin, he is a filthy rodent."

At that moment, the little Blunk - having pocketed the candy - stood, apparently brushing himself off and Caleb sat forward; raising an eyebrow. Hay Lin smiled at the big yellowy eyes that set on her curiously and she bent over him happily cooing, "Do you smell a portal, huh?"

"Yes..." Caleb seemed dubious, giving the rope an unnecessary tug as he spoke, "Do you?"

"Smell?" Blunk's voice was low and throaty, making Hay Lin giggle. "Blunk smell all day. Girly pay."

Hay Lin grinned happily, and Caleb seemed to take offence, "She paid!? What about the meat?"

Blunk seemed to develop a character of his own and Hay Lin's eyes grew large watching Caleb's stunned expression, "Trap. Give gift."

"Gift?"

Caleb seemed unimpressed by the notion that Blunk's help had been offered from such a simple gift of a chewed up candy bar, but Hay Lin found it endearing that the frog was keen to give a gift for a gift; keeping her voice optimistic as she shrugged, "You know what they say, it's the thought that counts!"

**...**

Irma frowned when the door bell went.

* * *

The walk between Cornelia's and the other girl's houses was comparable as nearly twice as far. Caleb vaguely recognised the streets for a while, then found himself lost completely as everything got inexplicably taller. The buildings shone; by far more bright than any single day in Meridian. There was a dead sensation to the trees that stood solitary in pots in the centre of constructed gardens. Caleb's throat began to develop a lump in the back, and he was relieved to see Irma gulping as they came toward the largest singular building Caleb had seen on Earth. The brunette's eyes travelled the steep building's height and she murmured, "Does anyone remember that I'm not meant to be here..?"

"Why not?" Caleb frowned, having his eyes met first by the mildly uncomfortable looking girl, then by Hay Lin, though he felt Taranee's gaze falling on him. Hay Lin grinned though he had learnt not to take that as a reason to feel any at ease.

"Um, she got banished!"

"Banished?" Caleb blinked. Irma had echoed with twice the intensity, and a little resentment in her tone, "_'Banished'?_"

"What, I speak his language."

Hay Lin shrugged and Irma snorted at that; Caleb neither understood, nor cared to as he gazed up at the metallic fortress. He hadn't anticipated how important a person Cornelia was, and tensed his jaw as Hay Lin pushed a square shape that he recalled from the contraption the passling had taken back when they'd let him go. Hay Lin had been sure that the bearer of the Heart wouldn't encounter the portal. And she had been the one to untie the beggar before then. The buzzing tone quickly responded along with a voice, **_#Hale residency!#_**

"Hey, it's Hay Lin!" Hay Lin chirped, and Caleb frowned at the child in the machine's response of,** _#__hey, Hay!# _**Some more buzzing and the door began to open without assistance. Caleb swallowed, staring with a mesmerized interest as he stepped through; immediately to be hit by a wall of heat and the scent of clean warmth. Irma didn't seem any more comfortable. Caleb reached out to touch a bronze statue that stood, looking out to some unknown marvel, but found himself being called and Hay Lin waved him back towards more opening doors. These silvery ones moving out to the sides and disappearing somewhere in the wall. "Have you ever been in an elevator?"

"No." It was probably true. Caleb frowned, squeezing into the room before realizing there was no second door. Caleb's eyes widened and he reached to stop the doors just too late as they closed. He spun to an amused group of girls, "It's a trap!"

"Oh wow... I did not expect that..." Irma drawled sarcastically as Caleb reached for the corners and walls of the room, tracing and hitting them only to find that all appeared to be somewhat hollow. He stood back and between all three, dropping to the ground and grasping his head as the room seemed to warp; his stomach twisting and his brain convulsing from the sensation as it- _Ping! _"And it's over! You can relax brave hero!"

Caleb looked up queasily as the doors flew open somewhere new and the girls stepped over him and out. He hurriedly followed.

The final door they reached was wooden, and Caleb grasped the frame; running his fingers along it for a button as Irma knocked loudly against the door. It swung open and Caleb blanched, his eyes falling to the tiny blonde bob and the tiara place on top of it.

**...**

Cornelia glanced sideways at the boy crouched down at the doorway; she herself leaning against another which led to the sitting room, she smiled as Caleb bowed his head furiously to her little sister Lillian. The little monster looked about as royal as a rat, having donned her Wellingtons; a purple tutu; her yellow spotted bathing suit; a large square pair of their father's reading glasses and the source of all trouble - a tiara. Cornelia bit her nail, with her eyes meeting the bemused ones of Irma, Hay Lin and Taranee as each made their way around His Courteousness. Cornelia pressed her lips together, gathering the courage to tell him before calling out, "She's not a princess, she's a rodent!"

Lillian squealed and darted away from the door, giggling and Caleb's head flew up. His solid, grassy green eyes met hers with a startled width and Cornelia walked leisurely over, pulling the tiara from her sister's knotty hair as she went, until she stood directly before the still bowing boy. Caleb picked himself up from the floor and his hand flew to his neck, sheepishly. Cornelia held up the identifying article and Caleb smiled uncertainly.

"It's plastic." She pushed the comb attachments through his soft brown hair and grinned wryly, hearing Irma snort as Cornelia turned away, motioning them inside. She glanced back, flushing pink at the doe eyed stare he had as he pulled the tiara from his head, before looking blankly down at it. Cornelia pushed the living' door open and looked accusatively toward Irma as the girl passed. Irma traipsed through, hands clasped together and took the seat placing furthest from the new glass coffee table. The _third_ new glass coffee table. Cornelia felt warm and looked back to where Caleb was still standing, "You coming in Rebel boy?"

"Have we been out for the last..." Caleb trailed off, thinking about the time it had taken to get upstairs, and Cornelia propped the door open for him, leaving it and taking a seat in the corner of one pristine white setee, tucking her feet under her legs. She glanced back to the still undisturbed doorway and turned to the uncomfortable looking trio. Well, Hay Lin looked comfortable.

"So, did you guys take the stairs or.." Cornelia looked thoughtfully to the doorway again, "Is he alright?"

"He thought we were under attack!" Hay Lin seemed to find it funny, but Cornelia's face fell, distraught.

"That's not funny, Hay Lin!"

"But if it's Will, it is?" Cornelia reserved herself, throwing a dangerous look at Irma who raised her hands in defeat, "Okay, we get it: no more _'man's first elevator ride'_s."

"What's up?" Cornelia changed the subject, with her chest tightening as Taranee's silent stare bore holes through her. She was past feeling proud of the Will scenario and Cornelia stared down at her knees, trying to ignore the condemning feeling that she got whenever people uttered, _'ice queen' _around her.

"There's a portal."

Caleb looked sick. His face was paling and Cornelia's face contorted worriedly at him clutching the tiara and swaying ever so slightly. Somewhere between bowing and the sitting room doorway, Caleb had grown a little green and his eyes seemed to be trying to cross. She quickly stood, picking up a bowl of pot pourri, she tipped the dried petals over the cream carpet and virtually threw it in front of his eyes in time to wince and turn her head in mild disgust.

**...**

Will folded her arms sighing over a shiver as she stubbornly trudged on without a jacket. She glowered down at the frost bitten street: a street that looked identical in both directions, and only led to more places she didn't recognise. The frustrated girl kicked at her cold-handled red bicycle where it lay on the curb. The place was desert of cars and people, and Will condemned herself for leaving the more familiar places in Heatherfield without her map provided.

The wind blew, cutting, and made Will's teeth chatter slightly. She was neither particularly adapted for extreme heat nor cold. And now she was lost in the middle of Heatherfield, with a mobile that - it would seem - just being held in her pocket alone drained it's battery. "YOU'RE USELESS! YOU KNOW THAT!?"

Will forced her thumb down on the **_On _**button and blinked as she swore it flashed '**sorry**', before the screen turned black again. She shook her head, swearing through her gritted teeth. It wasn't as though the portal was the problem; Will had found no problem finding herself stood in front of the thing with _zero _memory as to getting there, but she knew she couldn't close it because Will had no idea what side anyone was on.

Will blinked hotly as she slumped next to her bike, crouching because the stone of the ground was too cold to sit on. She crossed her arms on her knees and shook her overgrown red bob over her paling face. She let her mind take hold, unravelling images of blood and water. Her eyes had glazed childishly and she felt exposed in the dark vacuum of space. "Hey..."

Will squinted through the darkness, realizing that she wasn't alone. White dust had begun falling from the air and the slim black shadow of a person became in mere seconds undistinguishable. Will bit her lip uncertainly, standing and pushing her hair back in place. She shoved the glowing Heart into her backpack haphazardly.

"I sai- HEY-" Something warm and wet trailed down the back of Will's neck and the snowdrops faded out of her eyesight.

* * *

The five of them stood, facing an alleyway. It's end replaced with blue light, the place was bright as daylight and the blue lightning reflected on every snowflake. Caleb peered up into the quickly blackening winter sky and Irma glanced to him, a little tentatively, "Haven't you ever seen snow before?"

"Snow? Yes." Irma tilted her head, taking in the sight of him leaning back to face the sky. He was a funny sort of person, Caleb, and in the short space of time she'd known him, she'd both loved and hated parts of him. The part she hated most being the growth currently attaching itself to his un-responding arm making Irma pout as Cornelia peered up too, looking a little confused by the object of doing so. Caleb however, just kept looking. "I've never seen it fall from quite as clear a sky."

He eventually shook the thin layer of white cloaking his longish fringe, but Irma had caught Taranee squinting behind her: Irma turned too and bit her lip at the sight of the abandoned red bicycle. Irma was sure that Will would never shut them inside. "Shall we go?"

Irma ducked her head down, flustered, and closed her eyes to picture her Guardian form. Warmth crowded her senses and a rush of endorphins brought her full lips to smile as she opened her sultry eyes to find three more visions of confidence. Caleb had looked up again, but it seemed to be out of respect and Irma wondered what he actually _saw _while they were transforming. Not much, staring up like that. He hadn't seemed embarrassed when she had transformed back into herself the night of meeting. The older boy suddenly looked young between them, "Ladies first."

**...**

The street light faded; despite the portal glowing brightly on this world too, Meridian's atmosphere seemed thick, with dense shadows engulfing them regardless pf the sparking blue energy. Yan Lin had said that the universe was frail, and it was grim when Caleb considered from Earth's perspective that the Veil was collapsing. Still, it would be the saviour of the Metaworld. Caleb could feel the girls' huddling warmth around him as he studied the twists and knots in the tree branches. His eyes darted toward the direction of the city, but on hearing a quiet _snap _Caleb faltered: sending his hand out to halt the four behind him in case they ventured. He hadn't forgotten that on this planet every cracking twig was a traitor. "We'll go around."

Caleb spoke calmly to display a sense of authority; the noise had been faint and distant, but in these times it was often the safer path to travel along the outskirts of the castle. He turned, grateful for their silence, and urged them on the longer journey with a gesturing nod. They obliged. Caleb frowned over his shoulder, into the shrubbery, feeling quietly optimistic about his alliance-turned-enrolment. They were going to led the rebellion to victory. And in their currently attentive state, Caleb felt his confidence peaking with a wry smile growing on his face the more he considered his new angle of leadership.

**...**

The breathing had shallowed, leaving fewer seconds between before Cedric felt her coming to completely. The sky was dusty, and it was becoming hard to decipher the air from the ground; making him feel comfortable to grasp her savage red muss of hair and pull the young girl's head back, revealing a pair of cloudy brown eyes. Her terror hadn't reached her, and Cedric found himself relieved of the fact in that she might be able to give her his answers. He hissed into her pained face, watching her wince as he spat, "What have you been planning, Guardian?"

"Hh.." The Castle stood tall along side them; not far from the tear in the Veil she had led him directly to. She reeked of Candracar and Cedric felt a fury in him; his mind searching her for clues as to what had caused the Earth-dwelling creatures to disrupt his system. Cedric's clean nails dug into the skin of her scalp, and he could feel her blood starting to seep again. His pulse racing faster than his thoughts as he recalled how close they had in fact been. They were - after all - portal seekers, and Cedric's face contorted venomously: grasping the back of her head tighter and feeling the moisture ooze more steadily from where he had struck her.

"Don't think I didn't _see your **handiwork!**" _Cedric snarled into her face, becoming increasingly agitated by the lack of reception he seemed to be getting: the girl's eyes stared, hazily frightened, but still blinking. Her mouth hung open; her breathing had hitched and he took her silence rebelliously. Lord Cedric forced his hand over her lips as though she might've been likely to say something; to remind her that her chance to speak was over as he pressed his forehead against hers, whispering, "Making your own timber to set ablaze might've seemed clever, but that elemental mess was hardly deceptive, considering your watery- Ah!"

Cedric outstretched his palm, throwing her and staring down at the indents of her teeth. It took a millisecond to realize the action had been foolish, but as he looked up the girl had vanished. To his left the long, rounded castle wall and to his right a thick forest of hidden corners and shadows. The tall man felt his blood blister and his skin tighten beneath his cloak. He had not intended Prince Phobos to audience with her, but... His stunning blue eyes shot to the library's outside walls... Things didn't always go as planned.

"Guards!"

* * *

Irma was starting to think that Caleb was lost. Meridian was dark and every direction seemed to be trees; the boy stopped them every couple of seconds for a few moments silence. And Irma's brain kept reminding her that Will's bike had been in the proximity of the portal meaning that it could easily close at any second. Irma blew out a small breath and Caleb jerked his head to look at her, paranoid. She was starting to feel more and more nervous about the plan to join the rebellion and she eye'd Cornelia's grip on the boy's arm enviously. At least Cornelia knew she'd be the last to die...

She bit her lip them jumped, her eyes wildly taking in Hay Lin. The petite girl had a calm about her, and Irma looked down to see that Hay Lin was holding Taranee's hand in the one that wasn't clasping her own clammy fingers. Irma smiled strongly, before looking up to Caleb who had moved away from Cornelia; forward a few steps, he had somehow climbed a few branches of tree silently with a frown growing. His playfully light green eyes looked mossy and serious now, bringing it in that he was the leader of a real army. In a war that left even the woods overgrown, but long dead.

Irma knocked quietly on bark, surprised when it was completely hollow. "What was that!"

Caleb's voice was suddenly loud and clear, and Irma spun to him, taking in his startled fear. She stepped back, only for a twig to snap beneath her feet and he took deep breaths through his nose. Irma was stunned when he unsheathed his sword, which still had dried flecks of blood though she'd seen him cleaning it. His face became rigid and full of some sort of angered passion she'd not seen. Hay Lin's grip on one of her hands had become tighter and Irma stuttered, though she knew it was all her fault, "What about practice!? You mentioned training!?"

"Doesn't Earth ever use the phrase, _'Learning by doing'_!? I can't un-catch us!" Irma felt terrified by that statement; watching in horror as he swung his sword through the shrubbery, that yelled out in pain before Caleb dug his foot in and used to leverage to remove his blade.

Irma didn't get a chance to see what was in the bush, before Caleb had whipped out a small dagger and lunged it over her shoulder: she froze, then turned as a great, massive brute of a troll-creature instinctively grabbed at the knife in his neck as he fell: dead. "Caleb!"

Hands had dropped and Hay Lin brought hers to her mouth emotionally, but Caleb seemed unfazed as he threw the hilt of his sword against some tree creature's forehead and span, stabbing another. "Fight!"

Irma's mouth fell open, stunned, but Cornelia stepped forward and threw her arms out - the ground beginning to tremble, then shake more violently as she slowly clenched her fists. Hay Lin had taken to the air, and only then did Irma recall that she had wings. She ignored them, staring out at the hoards that came from every angle between the trees.

Irma looked at the trees.

**...**

Cinnamon eyes watched hazily through the gap in the wall what she could without moving. Just a crease of the darkness in this world, as armour clanged and heavy footsteps made the ground shake beneath her unsteady legs. There was a fleeting minute of yelling, to which Will winced, wishing she had hid somewhere wide enough for her to either stop sucking her stomach in or touch her head where the creepy blonde man had knocked her out. She dropped her backpack handle, during the racket because every strain on her body was becoming sensitive to what she suspected would be a nice bump on her head now. "_I want her found. Alive!_"

Will swallowed, trying to ignore the queasy sensation his voice gave her. The man had piercing blue eyes that stared threateningly into her, his characteristics seeming familiar, but she blocked out the thoughts as his veins pulsated and burst into a thick green scaly... At least Will knew now what Cornelia and Caleb had been doing - ripping the castle to shreds apparently. And Will was getting the interrogation now because Cornelia was a guardian? Will blew at a stray hair in her face that fell exactly where it had been and felt herself becoming restless.

**...**

Hay Lin stared down at the ongoing ruffle, her chest heaving as she breathed in the scent of blood and death. The night air was icy above the trees, and she found herself looking from the ongoing treetops to the castle that stood not far beside them: it's dishevelled, slumping turrets and slate-coloured brickwork making her shiver more than the temperature could. Hay Lin felt a whip of something pass her and turned, mid-air, to watch a heavy sword fall back into the trees at another place, resulting in a yell of agony. She swooped down, closing her eyes and finding she could hear every singular movement. The blunt noise of the earthquake; the gruff sounds made by the warriors; the hitting of metal on metal and the yells when metal did not protect. "Water! Come!"

She heard Irma's voice as well. The gushing of water somewhere. Hay Lin dropped down below the tree-tops once more to find that tree trunks were bursting and water was shooting from them in powerful streams. Caleb seemed to dodge them effortlessly and Hay Lin gasped as one of the ogre-monsters threw a dagger that spun haphazardly in the boy's direction. She threw her hand out, but her mind went blank and Hay Lin faltered. Her heart missed a beat as Caleb caught the short blade - throwing it without a second thought. Hay Lin zipped between streams of water; avoiding the ground that seemed to be crumbling beneath the brawl and found herself face to face with a great leathery monster.

Hay Lin stared, terrified - and intending to do all she thought she could do and blow him away - she took a deep breathe. Her small dark eyes widened as he took his hands to his neck: his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fainted from the temporary suffocation. Hay Lin blew out her stolen air a little guiltily. "S-sorry?"

**...**

Lord Cedric flew towards the castle doors: he strode in the opposite direction to the Lurdens and soldiers, with his blood boiling from rage. Fear convulsed through him at the thought of Phobos' reaction. They had been struck lucky that the Prince had had so little interest in their doings whilst his sister distracted him, but this. This was going to be catastrophic if Lord Cedric had nothing to show for it. His eyes caught royal blue and Cedric weaved between the fleet of men, grasping Vathek's thick, rugged arm and growling mercilessly, "I want a guardian, Vathek! Don't fail me again!"

Vathek nodded curtly and Cedric threw the beast's arm from his grip, making way for Elyon's quarters.

He took nimble strides along the corridor and hasty steps up the stairs: he pushed himself to move more fleetingly, but swallowed at the young adolescent who's eyes stared to him fearfully. Miranda had taken care to go unnoticed by the Princess, but stood now just feet from her room. Cedric's eyes flew to the figure in Elyon's doorway and uttered quietly, "Miranda, you are needed in the forest."

Miranda's violet eyes flashed onto him once more before she passed; her movement always silent, Cedric turned to watch the great black arachnid Miranda had become as she crawled over the walls and turned the corner. Cedric felt a bead of sweat roll from his forehead, the air was cool and sharp t breathe as he progressed toward the princess Elyon's quarters.

Prince Phobos' incandescent skin was pearly from whatever light shone in Elyon's room. His sterling eyes small; looking down, the prince took no notice of Cedric's approach. But he would be aware. Cedric shook. His eyes stung with despair as he pressed himself to the ground. His knees and hands against the stone floor that burned bitingly. Cedric stared down at the dim shine of the ground, awaiting his discipline. He suspected the bed was empty, but instead his attuned ears heard the faint snicker; a mere breath of laughter through the nose. Cedric did not dare to move from the ground.

"She wont stir." Lord Cedric's heart clenched at the melodic voice, etching his head to the side to take in the blackened room with a single orb of pearly white shining over the chest of the indeed sleeping girl. The Escanor line passed down the power over light with the reign. It was poison to one who did no posess the birthright to use it. The light that burned with a thousand suns was dimmer than Lord Cedric recalled it to be. But since the Queen Wiera passed Cedric had seen little more than the shadows and flames and lightning.

The fire-planet burned on a tilt of Metamoor, but even Cedric had long-since been bound to Meridian.

He pushed a silent breath from his mouth, that Phobos again snickered at. "Are you going to remain on the ground, Lord Cedric."

The Lord recalled a day that he had set his eyes on the prince before. The child had been the peaceful type, who unnerved many of the King's staff with his silence. His darting eyes and disinterest in the mundane of the world: Prince Phobos the boy had lit with attraction to his place of power at his parent's eclipse. The world had become this child's in a moment. He had since then only had eyes for the Prince's murmurers, because throughout these years Prince Phobos had kept to himself somewhat.

Lord Cedric did not allow himself expression as the Prince smiled tranquilly in his place, with a hand rest on His sister's door frame. His fair, natural platinum hair fell beautifully around his slightly thinning face. The hint of red that grew in his trim beard bright from the faint light. The disconcertion in Cedric grew at Prince Phobos complete amicability and consensus. He had been expecting all the rage and fire and darkness that filled the skies down of Meridian.

Cedric's confusion only made him more wary, "P-prince, I c-can explain..."

**...**

Taranee Cook was uncomfortable in her guardian form. Her hair had grown alike everyone else's, and had been swept into a series of long strands that hung round her face. Her body had grown stronger, and she had developed in the same way as the others; inclusive of the wings protruding from her back gracefully. She pulled herself closer to the tree she had pressed herself against; staring down at her purplish sneakers-boots and blotting out what she could of the experience. It frightened Taranee to look up at Caleb, who had just moments ago decapitated one of the enemy troops. Not that they didn't just keep coming. Taranee ignored Cornelia's gazes - the blonde having already beat away several enemies from Taranee's path, whilst vines clawed down the enemies into weedy cages. "You're looking lost..."

Taranee blanched, her eyes meeting those aggressive black pupils of these alien soldiers, but in a flash of green the creature had been encased in yet another natural prison. The dark skinned girl took in Cornelia's unsettling glare and the beads of sweat starting to drip from her forehead. A familiar cry of Irma was followed by the floods that mixed with the ground drying back into a dusty dirt - with one serious glance Cornelia let Taranee know that she was going to find out what the problem was and Taranee looked at her own hands expectantly. "Irma?"

"Cornelia!" Taranee reached out but Cornelia too took flight. It was unbelievable to see and Taranee almost forgot her surroundings until she felt herself being grabbed around the mouth. Her throat became dry and she lost the ability to breath staring down at the thick blue hand; with leathery skin and white markings that seemed to protrude like rocks from it. Whatever had her growled and breathed heavily on her neck before another arm shot around her stomach and she was pulled against an _enormous _muscular torso. Taranee jerked and flailed her legs, but found that she couldn't fight him at all.

**...**

Prince Phobos paused as he neared the castle's exterior wall: the many eyes of his own army falling to him. He smiled and bowed his head to the unnerved audience, for they needn't ever meet him to have worked under his reign. Lord Cedric had carelessly followed him, and Phobos lips parted in a mild grin hearing the older gentleman pant. The Prince studied the chaos, neither sure of why his men were leaving the castle, nor why Lord Cedric might need so many of them. Phobos raised his hand, "I'm sure quite enough of you are out there."

Many of the men and Lurdens looked relieved, but the more intelligent were dubious. Prince Phobos had, however conducted the hectic discord of this situation and looked to Lord Cedric; amused by the ease at which control had been lost by the man. "Your grace-"

Prince Phobos again raised his hand, not quite placing it on Lord Cedric's chest. "I'm sure that there must be."

**...**

The commotion died instantaneously, and Will wasn't sure what had happened. The ground still shook and rumbled, in the distance now. Will could hear the pandemonium growing fainter. The tiny redhead writhed slightly in the gap she'd wedged herself between, trying to get a look at what was left of the great crowds: different shapes and sizes seemed to be falling back from where they'd come, with some already injured and most simply returning. Will assumed it meant that this excitement was confidently going to the Prince.

Will wasn't sure how because she'd thought it was about her, but felt quietly relieved that they'd been distracted by whatever lurked in the forest. The only uncertainty for Will now was whether she would have to face it to return home; was it likely to put up a fight.

The stream became a trickle of greyish creatures, with more pronounced shapes seeming to be one of a kind. Will pushed herself back into the shadows as one skeletal figure stopped his traipse to turn his directly to her. His eyes were goldish yellow with a single black centre to each; no iris whatsoever. His skin seemed to cling to his bones, revealing them significantly to the point that - when he moved on and Will peered, intrigued - it took her a moment to doubt whether he had skin at all. His dog looked as starved, though she found herself consumed by the chain he dragged behind him. His pet seemed enthused with the object and Will found her mind urging her to get closer. The spherical metal object seemed to be hollow, a maze of holes that Will wanted to grasp in her hands. She knocked herself out of the trance; wriggling her nose in disgust as the ball was dragged through a small puddle of...drool? Will winced, the _male_'s jaw had looked severely unhinged though she hoped the puddle belonged to the dog. "Curses you urchin! Remain still!"

Will's gaze was dragged from the puddle and onto Taranee.

**...**

The air felt warm and humid, carrying with it the congested sensation of blood in Cornelia's nostrils. The blonde's long fingers reached to her top lip, finding that her nose had at some point begun to drip out the thick crimson liquid. Not that it was necessarily her own that Cornelia smelt. Her chest heaved robustly as Cornelia stood, poised, watching the enemy slowly dwindle. She focused directly beyond the rooted monster: the troll with his mighty club and unnaturally aggressive size had been smashing trees from the ground and making a beeline for Irma. His indented footprints trampled anything surviving his swinging weapon. And with one crushing glare, Cornelia had encased him. The haunting twists of this tree enveloped their enemy's _'biggest weapon' _alive as he roared. Her success made Cornelia light up with merciless confidence. She turned to pass Irma, who remained pressed up against a hollow tree, letting her long hair whip to one side. Cornelia clasped her hands together, bending sweetly to the endless vine ropes and woody cages that covered the forest, showing the clusters of their enemy. The only danger left being the abandoned weapons that quilted the landscape.

With a clap of her hands the majority of her handiwork was pulled and wilted back into the murky battleground; swallowing the litter of swords and axes deep into the mud as they went. Cornelia cooed through the mass of crowd running, "Be sure to tell the Prince I look super cute _and _kick butt!"

"Cornelia..." Cornelia cleanly swiped the layer of persperation from her forehead while Irma gaped. "You le them go!"

Cornelia rolled her eyes, and as Caleb strode into view with a stern expression she shrugged, "What? I'm not made out of stone, what was I meant to do? Besides, now Prince _what's-his-name _might think twice before he sends his...things out again."

Caleb's face became fierce, and Cornelia swallowed her confidence under his fury, "You perhaps just defeated and captured a sixth of Phobos' main defence. And then let them go."

Irma gawked, "A sixth!?"

Cornelia felt very suddenly exposed, with Caleb's wrath and stormy eyes fixed intensely on her; she was regretful that she'd acted so quickly. Cornelia threw out her hand to the groaning tree, uncertainly, "I kept the big one..?"

Caleb exhaled then from his nose, looking no less agitated. His sharp green eyes appeared resentful she thought, considering Cornelia had saved all of them. Irma, still in awe, was pacing with her eyes virtually bulging from their sockets. "Only a freakin sixth!?"

"Irma!" Caleb looked up as Hay Lin landed haphazardly. She somehow seemed unfazed by taking flight miraculously, and Cornelia tediously craned to look over her shoulder; willing them to, yet surprised when her own dainty teal wings started to gingerly flutter. Hay Lin was distraught. "I can't find Taranee!"

Cornelia tensed. Everyone did at the mention of the quiet, polite bookworm they'd come to befriend through this magic. But it was Cornelia who knew almost for certain, "She doesn't know how to use her powers yet!"

"They'll capture her, not kill her." Cornelia's mouth gaped open, falling at Caleb's grim, factual tone in shock. He glowered; his eyes dark and concerned. "Phobos has a knack for collecting rare objects."

**...**

"The G-guardian Leader, my Prince." Prince Phobos let the textured sand roll between his fingers roughly before he gently tossed them; the fine rock splaying and skimming over marble. He smiled at the image in his mind, of a child with violently crimson hair staring inquisitively into the soulless eyes of her enemy. The image seemed always blurred, but seemed amusing to the Prince, whilst Cedric bowed and stuttered, "I had her captured to investigate the attack... The castle's ruins, but... She escaped..."

"She is coming to our door." Phobos smirked, his plated grey eyes shining with mirth as the quivering Lord's head flew up, taking in the image. Phobos could hear the approaching commotion from his place inside, and watched uncertainly as the girl glanced behind her; startled, before slipping in through the slowly raising gate. The gardens were completely in darkness, and the Prince leaned forward as Cedric did: waiting. The minuscule girl's full weight and all of her effort seemed to go into wedging the tall, heavy doors open enough for her to force herself through. The room around them glistened peacefully with an artificial sunlight, whereas fires crackled in torches along the maroon and purple walls to reveal a wealth of décor that filled the castle where this girl had entered.

_"Shit!" _Phobos grinned, bemused. Lord Cedric jolted into a more proper posture as the girl cursed at the reverberating noise of the door slamming behind her. The Prince fingered a singular grain that remained in his hand before his eyes fell quietly on Cedric. In the background wildlife moved; an abundance of foliage. The Lord bowed his head as though afraid to meet his eyes.

"_Perhapss_ I should _esscort_ her to you?"

Phobos frowned, his lips thinning as his tongue drew over the back of his teeth. The Prince himself stood taller with an authoritative glance at the back of Cedric's head, before he smiled once more. His fingers glazed past an unruly hair and the man shivered, "I do think she has done a better job of imprisoning herself so far..."

Lord Cedric looked up to him in alarm, rather than exulting at the Prince's joke, and Phobos breathed a snigger whilst crouching in his graceful light blue robes, until his face was but an inch from the wide eyed man.

"Do take care of your stutter, Cedric."


	11. The Rebel Rescue

Will stepped cautiously forward, glancing to a lengthly window that reflected the near-black outside and the amber colour of her eyes from the firelight. She swallowed, wondering why her racket hadn't been detected, though Will's mind didn't seem to have to capacity to hold her concern more than a moment. It pounded quietly, making her vision blur in and out of focus as the gentle flames of mounted torches flickered ominously.

The redhead seized; unmoving whilst terrifying shouting and cries of gruff voices filled her ears from outside the castle. Will moved on, far from aware that for every corner she chose another host of options were being presented to her. The girl simply moved as her heavy head directed. It took a long slur of traipsing for Will to pause, considering the possibility that she might be lost. She looked around her.

The colour scheme at some point had become lime and cream-ish. Will pressed her fingers to her skull, wincing at every light source as her legs begged to retire from their journey. She vaguely recalled following in here, but wasn't sure whom, or why she had followed. A scream however jolted her back into consciousness and Will's face displayed her sobriety as she broke into a clear run, following the echoes that seemed only to be followed by more wailing.

Will stopped, her unsteady body swaying in her inflated stance. She stared blankly at the wide, yellowish eyes of the shouting creature; who hung by the foot from the meaty, clenched fist of a heavy-set, grey skinned beast. The murky-skinned, muscular thing grinning peevishly, though Will had started to feel she was imagining things. It's voice was gristly and deep, "You dare loot from Prince Phobos' castle!?"

"Not looting! Valuing!" Will backed up clumsily, realizing her entrance had gone unnoticed. She re-evaluated her actions now, deeming it unwise for her to make her way through the colossal building without a weapon. Not even in her... Will's hand grasped her collar, before she gradually mouthed the word, _backpack_, remembering having it, but not where it had gone. She refocussed on plan A: acquiring herself a weapon. Will, in the corner of this gloomy stone room, let her gaze lazily wander her surroundings. The place was darker than a lot of rooms, and Will frowned at a bulky chain. She reached for it, but it seemed to be fast quite firmly to something even heavier. Will - instead of letting go - decided again to pull at it.

Her brain seemed to make reality seem fuzzy around her and, struggling to budge the substantial chain of metal, Will let it pull her down until she sat numbly on the cold stone floor. Only when she felt a warm breeze on her back did Will recall her sense of purpose. "Senseless mortal."

**...**

All throughout her life, Irma had felt the fear of losing someone. It didn't pain her in the same way, she realised while Hay Lin's lips trembled; no longer burbling out her fears because Cornelia, with a shrill voice and bitter words, silenced all of them. Irma's eyes wandered the small, broken remnants of buildings as they passed on the road between them. Cornelia's face was stoic and it made Irma worry sometimes how impassive she became when she was dealing with more than she could handle. At least it gave some gesture that Cornelia cared about Taranee. Cornelia came from a small family, but Irma was vaguely aware that she was her daddy's little girl and that her mother - who occasionally _was _at home tended to focus her attention on Lillian. It was hard to feel sympathetic for her royal highness of Heatherfield, but Irma tried.

Hay Lin, however. Her cheeks simply ran with tears and she choked down moments when she seemed like she might blub again. Hay Lin didn't need to pretend or hide or consider her emotions and Irma supposed it made them close because it made Hay Lin flamboyant. Hay Lin didn't _act _innocent, she was innocent. The girl had a tendency to twirl great knots in the pigtails that ran halfway down her body; further in this Guardian form. Her smile was wider than anyone's Irma had ever seen and Irma wasn't sure if Hay Lin ever really felt embarrassed or anxious about herself unless it was because Hay Lin was aware that someone was actively trying to make her feel that way. "Where are we?"

They had stopped. Irma gazed around the dump and squinted through the darkness at Cornelia's antagonizing look. The girl really had a problem with mistreating people to make herself feel better about things. Irma frowned, holding eye contact with the steely blues that rolled before Cornelia paused. Her hand was posed to knock on a half-trashed barrel and Irma felt her impatience rising. She felt impatient about the troubles with Will. She felt impatient about agreeing to let Caleb seek Taranee by himself. And now Cornelia was making her teeth grind over hesitating to knock on the shabby piece of wood.

Irma threw her own fist against it, and made a startled half-squeak as a hand was forced against her mouth and a minty coloured face appeared just by hers. His penetrating gaze meeting her own look of surprise, and complete horror; she realized the slight pressure at her neck was a knife. "H-hello..."

"We're the Guardians of the Veil." Irma felt no less concerned when Cornelia stepped forward, because the knife remained at her throat. The male did look to Cornelia suspiciously though, more by her gutsy voice than what she'd said by the look of it. The blonde didn't back down. "Caleb said that Aketon would know we were coming."

"Eeek!" Irma's mouth was released, only for her to be pulled against the man's slender, built chest. She tilted her head, looking to Hay Lin who didn't seem to be sure whether to scream or not and Irma decided to make light of the situation for her benefit; shrugging her shoulders, "To be fair without the knife I've had dreams about this."

Irma grinned until the green-skinned male started to push her aggressively forward, into the 'door' disguised as a barrel.

**...**

The child was microscopic. In the metal and stone cage of the dungeons, her vibrant red hair became a more rational cherry colour, but remained unmissable in the dull room. Her vast brown eyes were unfocused; brimming with a misty awe as she stared up at Vathek's full height. The tiny being took him by surprise however, when she changed and glowered furiously - stomping across what was left of the distance between them and throwing an accusing finger into his stomach. She wouldn't have reached his chest had she tried. Vathek had not forgotten Cedric's interest in the bothersome creature, though he reminded himself as aggravation stirred and his meaty fists closed in on themselves. "You!"

_You_. Vathek supposed she remembered him too, though he was vaguely taken aback by her lack of fear. The rocks that dotted his throat and forehead started to sharpen, revealing his irritation. He sniffed uncertainly, glancing behind himself where the scent of decay lurked at the highest concentrate and viciously growled; pulling the squawking passling from the grinning idiot of a Lurden's palm and throwing it down a nearby oubliette in hopes of the smell fading. It's echoing cries filled the dungeons, but silence was an exceedingly rare thing where so many were still hopeful. The broken spirits went to the Meridian prison-tower.

"HEY!" Vathek supposed it would be as simple to push her, along with her pitchy, stubborn voice down the hole after the passling had Lord Cedric not specified otherwise in the Earth-realm. He turned fiercely on her, his patience worn by the writhing guardian long ago. The thin human had grabbed an abandoned spear-head that the passling had almost certainly dropped - a litter of garbage usually following them - holding her hand forward suggestively as she struggled to balance. "I WANT MY FRIEND BACK!"

Vathek had had enough and went to lunge forward. He stopped himself though and retreated cautiously, knowing her importance and instead allowing the Lurden to notice and approach her.

**...**

Will had flinched, falling to her knees unsteadily and throwing her hands over her eyes when the Lurden approached her in her corner. It took a few moments for her mind to take in the slash; the groan of pain that hadn't come from her own lips. She peeled her fingers back. Her wide eyes took in the creature in front of her: it's eyes wide and it's expression of savage eagerness replaced with one of impact. That being what was left of it, seen as the thick blade had slashed the monster's face along the centre on it's way through his chest. Will watched in horror at where the knife had had impact: the blood yet to start spilling, she reached out gingerly catching the first drop as it rolled from the wound. Her eyes took in this body, realizing that it was a corpse - still standing only as it remained held up by the force of the sword dug in it's chest. The sword, with a cold shiver Will realized was looming still over her head.

She rolled her head up and back slowly: her umber eyes taking in the length of the blade and hilt slowly, with her concentration impaired, before she finally found his sweat-covered face looking down at her unsympathetically. Will was aware she looked worn. Her eyes glistened and chest pounded as she started to shake forcibly, overwhelmed by her doubling vision along with what it had just witnessed. Will wanted to run, but found she couldn't move - only falling back when she stopped hugging her legs. Caleb had had to step back and the beastly body collapsed over one of her legs, which she pulled from under him queasily. "H-he.. Yo.."

Will stared up blearily to the blue giant.

"You let him die." Will wasn't sure if she'd really said it though, because the blue creature's rocky face grew sharp and he marched toward her; effortlessly reaching for the axe protruding from behind the dead being. When the giant, bulky male picked it up she realized it was attached to the soldier's belt. Her mouth fell open, in revulsion, as the alleged rebel leader stepped over her and the corpse was shaken from it's own weapon. She winced when metal hit metal and struggled to stand.

**...**

Lord Cedric fumed. He bowed his head as Prince Phobos nodded his permission for departure and turned, striding at a livid speed. His skin pulsated and burst venomously and Cedric cried out in anger as he slithered agilely through the castle. He burst past the few Lurdens brave enough to walk freely through the castle after their defeat.

His body filled the corridors and knocked décor, but Lord Cedric didn't posses at that moment the restraint to take care. The journey was short in this form and Lord Cedric smirked; his tongue protruded and vibrated as he hissed. His gaze taking in the murmurer, with little threat from the girl who bent, staring down at her outstretched hands that pressed on the floor, with shock finally causing her to convulse and seize beyond her own control. He swiftly came into view, his tail curling tightly around the filthy murmurer's body. "_CcalLeb..._"

The young boy's eyes stared up to Cedric indignantly and Cedric's mouth opened in a wide snarl revealing his long, razor-sharp teeth as his tail released Caleb. Cedic's gaze darted down to his wound as the murmurer darted under a loop in his tail; pulling the red haired girl to his chest as he ran, "You should know by now, I always have another knife!"

Lord Cedric turned, roaring, but found a wall of arrows flying at him that forced Lord Cedric to fall back. He snarled after the first hit, smashing his tail across them and grabbing for the boy, who dropped the guardian, threw him. Lord Cedric grinned as Caleb's back hit the circumference of an oubliette and the child's slumped body rolled back into it. A stabbing pain hit Cedric and he turned, growling down at the delicately small redhead. She had forced the larger of Caleb's swords into his tail and Cedric let himself shrink down to a man, still towering over the youth.

**...**

The archers had been taken out in one fell swoop, but had they known Lord Cedric was their man, they might have anticipated that and brought more. Aldarn moved wearily; peering up to the oubliette while Cedric's form changed. His small, black eyes narrowed and the boy withheld a wry smirk at the hand gripping onto the oubliette's edge. Aldarn propped himself onto his elbows and dragged himself closer. The stone floors were cold, shaking slightly as footfalls thundered: the guards finally getting word that they'd been intruded. Aldarn held his breath, looking over to Cedric's slim human form stepping around the girl, before he hissed, "What the hell is this supposed to be, Caleb?"

Aldarn watched his men recovering, but Cedric snarled and turned on them. The gist of Lord Cedric's power was displayed in brute force, but Aldarn was aware that when provoked he had a fair knowledge in alchemy. Caleb pulled himself up, reaching his hand out expectantly. "Aldarn, your bow."

"Caleb, who-" Aldarn cut off, realizing that Caleb was neither listening, nor likely aware that he was being spoken to. The distracted expression of Caleb's calculation was something that everyone was used to in the rebellion, and Aldarn nodded curtly, sliding his crossbow over the ridged floor. He winced, hoping not to hear it fall, and swallowed, pulling an arrow from his quiver, but Caleb - still hanging by his upper chest - shook his head. Aldarn unhooked the quiver, rolling it involuntarily; aware that his dagger was not his most favourable weapon. Caleb himself appeared to be disarmed entirely. Aldarn had noticed Lord Cedric dropping his sword, one of the last heavy metals, forged and taken from the royal armoury years before Caleb had entered the rebellion.

Caleb grinned to Aldarn, "I've missed you, my friend."

Aldarn looked away, almost ignoring the words though he appreciated them. He unsheathed his dagger, watching silently for the guards to notice him. Aldarn glanced to see Caleb had taken his sling and rolled the tube of arrows back. The single hooked arrow slid into the crossbow, attached by a wire designed to be pulled back into the bow - allowing the heights of walls to be scaled in seconds. Aldarn couldn't fathom what Caleb was planning: the ceiling of the dungeons specifically flat stone, that caved in slightly in the corners. "Caleb, how do you-"

**...**

Lord Cedric towered over the Guardian Leader. Her glaring red hair made her impossible to miss and her slender, quivering frame exposed her vulnerability. It made Cedric pompous and bold; characteristics that Caleb considered to be targets, as he squinted to gain focus on the sneering man's slim shoulders.

Timing itself was significant, and Caleb found himself breaking a sweat. The thin droplet of liquid rolled down his forehead and past his nose all in a single, silent second. "Hey! You there!"

Caleb released his clasping finger, with a single jolt of the wrist the arrow shot clear across the riots and Caleb could only hope no one caught on fast enough to cut the wire: Caleb grinned as Cedric yowled, grasping onto the hook that had pierced directly through his chest at the collar. The serpent fell forward and Caleb flicked a lever that pulled him against the body of the wounded Lord. "Not _assss_ tough as you look, eh?"

Caleb smirked, but his smile became a frown when his eye's met hers. The Guardian was still shaking, slightly, with an eyebrow cocked in a way to suggest she had heard him. The boy cursed his own words and slashed the wire attaching him to Cedric - Cedric's blue eyes stung with the mutual loathing Caleb felt toward him. He took a millisecond to glance down at the man's deep cut at the calf, backing down to his sword and grasping the hilt possessively with his eyes still pointedly watching _him_. Caleb let his gaze flash down at his bloody weapon and then to the girl. She seemed to seep in and out of full conciousness, which told him that his original mission was lost. Will.

"**_Fall__ back!_**" Her eyes widened with his words and Caleb found himself glaring, part of him urging her to realize it was her fault. The other part of the boy was stunned. Stunned that she had lived and stunned by the fact that she did so in a mere human form. Caleb was stunned that she understood any of what had just occurred, unlike the others who were full of questions. He had sent them back, to the Infinite City. Having learnt a valuable lesson that power and skill were different things. The remaining Guardians of the Veil had sent for reinforcements, unstable and unprepared for battle. But this girl's hazelnut eyes stung with sober understanding. It wasn't that she wanted to leave, but the acceptance that she must... Or perhaps she couldn't understand at all. Her jaw tightened and Caleb physically turned her. "Run. Fast."

**...**

Lord Cedric spat blood. He pulled the metallic hook negligently through the flesh of his shoulder, staring down at the contraption in his hand. The wire thread through his wound after it and Cedric fisted the sharp piece of metal, grinding his teeth as he tasted the iron in his mouth. His face warped sourly, looking after Caleb with malicious contempt. The child was a reckless savage, whom ought not have as many lucky successes as he in fact had.

Cedric was no holy man, but his eyes blinked to the back of the red haired creature, as she dizzily ran and Caleb twisted his sword into another Lurden's chest. Lurdens. The filthy half-forms were the lowest breed, but their worthless numbers proved to be useful: both in giving the rebellion false hope that led many to capture, and just enough fear of being outnumbered by others that Prince Phobos' power was virtually unquestioned.

Lord Cedric pushed himself to standing, merely watching as the mob colliding amongst itself was abandoned by the Rebel Leader. The Guardians of the Veil would be a precious commodity united. Without her, Lord Cedric was going to need to seek higher authorities than Prince Phobos.

* * *

Will hadn't got far before she was being effortlessly lifted in one of the boy's arms. Her eyes flew to his bemused face, stony and rigid features that wept droplets of perspiration that rolled down his forehead to his collar. She jerked, her body hardly secured in the crook of his elbow; the rebel leader's strong grip on her stomach. Will eagerly slid her arms round his shoulder, but felt cautious as he jolted her up by the thighs, pulling her legs up against his waist. He didn't flinch. It was captivating and daunting for Will, to see his lack of fear. She glanced behind him, still as agile with her weight, running at breakneck speed. There wasn't a soul to be seen and Will's breathing hitched, she found that she couldn't as she looked into the blurred corridors for the others. "Exhale."

Will pushed out a breath; her stunned eyes flying back to the side of his indifferent expression. It wasn't as though Will couldn't vaguely figure she was against him, but all that she could hear or feel above the pumping blood in her system was the shouting voice from her serpentine-come-man captor echoing down the halls and the unsteady jostling from being carried whilst the boy ran. "W-ho _ar-re_ y-ou?"

He wasn't a clumsy runner, she simply jittered because of the angle she was at on his hip. He glanced at her then. It didn't stop him from taking a sharp turn at the corner and dodging the row of empty armour suits that stood along the wall, but Will stared into the frightfully salient green of his eyes, wondering if she had made a mistake in '_letting_' the girls choose. It wasn't because they hadn't chosen her, as that they had chosen him. Him with his striking face and unimaginable instinct. Will swallowed when he turned his attention away from her; she threw her face into his neck as he smashed his sword into the glass of a window, and clenched against him realizing he had jumped clean out. Will peeked foggily from his shoulder to see that he had landed on the wall - the boy hadn't paused for breath, just carried on running and it intimidated her endlessly. Not that she was about to tell him it. "What happened!"

Will's eyes widened, feeling unsettled and disturbed when he immediately pulled his other arm under hers, shifting her onto his front and clasping her neck to his chest, pulling her in - never once slowing or taking a misstep. Will froze against him, realizing seconds before he did that he was going to jump. She wasn't ready for it. One of her arms could grip around him, but the other had ended up uselessly pressed against his chest in the sudden move and she yelled out, "ARE YOU CRAZY!?"

"Shut up!" Will's petite frame jolted when he skid against the ground; turning to account for her weight he ended up with one knee on the ground and she realized were he bent any further forward she would be too. She stared, furiously opening her mouth, but she didn't speak. His focus was cast up at the castle. He let go to wipe the sweat from his eyes, with one arm carrying her weight. Only then did she dizzily take in that his sight had probably been as useful as hers. Her anger faded to concern and Will could feel the adrenaline draining from her with every second. It wasn't as though her mind had been clear, but she blinked away the sensation of blacking out which was coming as her brain registered the immediate danger to be over. "What are you doing here?"

His voice could have been lost in the breeze, were the air not flat around them. The night air was cool, at least in contrast to the heat that radiated from his chest, which heaved quietly as his breath finally caught up with him. Will couldn't take her eyes from the lower angle of his face. It bewildered her that he wasn't fazed by any of this. She searched her uncertain mind, "You...broke into the castle. The...guardians..."

**...**

The femme's hesitant stutter broke Caleb's gaze, his focus urged onto the soft bloodless face of the Guardian Leader. Her placid skin was such a bold contrast to her rich scarlet hair, it irked Caleb to watch her pressing her eyes shut and open again. "What happened?"

Caleb glanced up at the castle again, waiting for sign of the unit. She was slurring more by the second and he shook her slightly as she leaned more heavily against his arm to stop her from fainting, "I bit him..."

Caleb laughed inwardly, but he didn't let her see his perplexed enjoyment of the thought of her feeble form managing to escape the tracker with such an attack as sinking her teeth into him. The boy couldn't remove the slightly unsettled sensation of hearing the dainty female had been so feral as to do such a thing though.

"The snake... He hit my..." It was coming out slowly, but Caleb looked down at her cloudy eyes. They widened when he thrust her body forward; keeping on hand ready to handle his sword he had to adjust the other arm so it could explore her head for a bump. It didn't take long. Her hair was crisp around it from an ooze of dried blood, Caleb more concerned as to why Cedric had caught her himself rather than sending a professional. "I didn't _know _why Cornelia..."

Had Caleb not already figured it out by the time the girl had trailed off from her last bitty sentence, he'd probably never have got that she'd been blamed for his doing. Caleb frowned, manoeuvring her to stand on her own feet next to him as he heard the quiet tones of his men, meaning their return. Cedric had taken her because she was supposed to be in charge of the guardian 'attacking them' when Cornelia's power had freed them from the walls of the castle. Her glossy eyes flashed up woosily, and Caleb wondered how she'd made it as far as the dungeon. He moved to throw her over his shoulder when she mumbled, "My backpack..."

Her... Caleb's eyes followed her unsteady gaze to a slender crack in the wall and he realized how she'd escaped her abductor. He growled, dropping the unstable waif and making a clear sprint to the shadowed crevice, someone calling out and arrows flying as footsteps thundered toward him - and, presumably - the girl he realized only then he'd left unprotected. Lending all his faith to the source of his troubles, Caleb plunged his hand into the darkness; feeling relief finding exactly what he had hoped for. He pulled out the well worn bag and took a millisecond to gaze at a toad keychain attached to the ties. Realizing what exactly he was risking their lives for, and who - virtually dribbling and unable to stand without aid - he had taken the advice from to do so. Caleb growled.

**...**

Aldarn paused, before jumping and tumbling to the ground. He watched his friend hoist the red haired girl over his shoulder before parting from visibility and taking to the forest seamlessly. Aldarn could perhaps understand, though usually Caleb was the last to be dragged still kicking from a fight, why he had departed had he been able to rescue the guardian of fire - as _Cornelia of Earth _had explained to them. But Aldarn had clearly seen the outline of the women who had come to them and he frowned to the section of the forest he had last seen his own leader and...a child.


	12. The Rebel Rescue 2 of 2

A single tear rolled plainly down the quivering girl's cheek. It was distinct and discernible in the darkness, catching some source of light to make it glisten; Elyon's eyes followed it's pattern down to her chin where it wound out of visibility. Had Elyon not recognised Taranee, she might not know that her skin was only just a shade lighter than her black-brown pupils, that were pressed tightly behind closed eyes and the rounded lenses of her glasses. She sniffed, more than sobbed, well practised in making herself inconspicuous. Taranee had been a woman and now she was not. Elyon studied the silhouette, hearing the beads she recalled strung through her hair chiming together when she shook. The sheer thought of having had been sought; having had been watched made Elyon uncomfortable. Far more so than being stood now in the endless shadows of criminals, with Lord Cedric at attention beside her. He had woken her urgently to meet the eyes of her huntress.

Elyon recognised this girl from school.

As distant wails and pleads began to allude Elyon to the treatment of her captives, she swallowed. Inhaling, Elyon felt her shoulders straighten before she stepped toward the cast iron bars. Only a glimmer of light from far off gently reached for this place. Around this girl, Elyon was not to expose herself with fire. Elyon scrutinised her, so typical that it was alarming. Taranee did not look like a threat. "E-Elyon!"

"And you are?" The girl's eyes had sought her face and Elyon realized her hands had been bound behind her. Elyon jut out her bottom lip defiantly, determined to feign ignorance rather than allow Taranee feel she had made Elyon feel any less secure. Elyon turned, looking boredly at her nails while her classmate's sobs became broken. Elyon didn't know her well, but she recalled her knowing more than she should. Silent and discreet, until a question was asked and Tranee would never fail to have a longer, in-depth answer than ought to be expected. Had it not been for that Elyon might never have known her name.

"I-I'm friends with Cornelia!"

"You stay away from her!" Elyon swirled, her arms rigid at her sides while her slate-coloured eyes grew impassioned. She hadn't considered her friend's place in this world, whether she could even see the girl again. And now her heart felt torn, her being resentful of Taranee's attempt to intimidate her. Elyon forced an unhappy grin to her face, tears welling in her eyes. "_Friendship, _Taranee? What does the word mean to you?"

Even in what little sight Elyon possessed through the shadows, she saw Taranee move at the recognition in Elyon saying her name. The girl quivered, "Probably not the same as it does to you..."

Elyon's eyes became slits, her chest stinging from the implication. She raised her chin proudly, "I heard that there were others, with you. I heard they left."

"That-" Elyon smiled when the girl cut off. She could hear her inhaling, calming her tearful state. The performance was over. "What are you trying to do to me!?"

The shout was louder than Elyon had ever heard Taranee's small voice, only exaggerated by Elyon's lack of ability to see her. The words bounced around the corners of the room, bypassing the door and almost growing louder as it echoed throughout the prison. Elyon turned, with wide eyes to find Cedric still stood, unflinching. The prisoners' cries that generally moaned continuously ceased, and once the echo had faded the black room was left with an unfamiliar silence. Elyon's face became hard. "Show yourself!"

"I couldn't if I wanted to." The words were quiet again, and Elyon whirled. She left. And saw something in Cedric's face change as she re-emerged into the room, with a torch in her hands. She wanted to look. Wanted to see the eyes of someone who had apparently been watching her for months. It reflected from the rage she felt for her parents, Elyon was certain, but didn't care because Taranee had obviously known the truth and kept it for her. Planning to use her; to syphon her of the magic - Elyon looked down at her hand, clasping the torch-handle - she possessed. Taranee's tear stained face softened; concerned. "Elyo-"

"Show me!" Elyon's voice now, was the one to raise. The torch flew between the bars and fell, rolling a foot or so from Taranee. The lit embers detached from the torch on impact, and burnt down to a dim glow. Elyon shook.

"Princ-"

"Quiet, Cedric." Elyon whispered the words, but he complied. Taranee, the studious girl, looked up through her round lenses at Elyon. She stood prestigiously, asserting her control over the situation. The dim ember died. Elyon frowned at the silhouette: something behind Taranee was glowing.

**...**

The three Guardians of the Veil sat, each completely different to the others. The Guardian of Earth, Drake didn't recall, but she turned her nose up at the world; sultry, but solid. Few eyes graced her with more desire than her beauty, but Drake saw her refusal to break. Perhaps Drake was known well for his conspiring to women-folk, but her interest was on appearing strong. Not a man.

The others were new, Aketon had left because of it. It made Drake grin coyly, though he supposed it was with mistrust to them that he had been left alone with them. The Guardian of Water was the one that actually struck him as malleable to the situation. Her hand on the shoulder of the Guardian of Air, who's emotions couldn't be contained in this room. Her shaking body was small, her sobs loud and unashamed. Had he not found the door to be shut from the outside, Drake's boredom would have long removed him from the room. Caleb had simply dumped them in the Infinite City without bothering to return and though these unreserved women irked him, Drake couldn't feel much remorse for the lack of the diligent boy in the city. "Get out, Drake!"

Drake had thought too soon. His eyes flew to the child that Caleb had gripped tightly by the arm, whom he yanked senselessly through the door and virtually threw onto the table. She bore her teeth, rubbing her arm and scowling; her eyes were narrowed by Drake could understand why they had been dubbed large even by Caleb. Her mussed red hair fell chaotically around her face and, though she was a child Drake could see the fire in her. "You rat! What was that for!"

"Will!?" Drake looked to the Guardians, wondering if it was her form that shocked them. Drake had a vague recollection of Aketon calling their age illusive. Drake's expression became a reserved smirk, realizing now it was in attempt to fend him from them before he was locked in to guard them. The Air Guardian's wide eyes glistened, "Will are you alright!? Wha-"

"What is _she _doing here!" The Guardian of Earth was effortlessly the one to take charge. She seemed spiteful though, and Drake carefully surveyed the situation as Caleb looked up at her.

"Cornelia, take them outside."

"But Wi-"

Drake found Caleb's grim expression on himself, and Drake's expression became a mirror of his authoritative figure, wishing that in the way of these women age might seem to have to do with notability. It stuck in his mind, the water Guardian retorting, _oh yes, and you're in charge because_. _'I'm older than either of you?'_ Drake snorted at the thought of pointing Caleb in any direction, he supposed it was merciful in Caleb's way that Drake's head remained in-tact for all of his sinning. Caleb was unamused by Drake's inner thoughts, or the expression they gave him. "Take Drake with you."_  
_

Drake threw a riled look at the thought of being directed by such a woman.

**...**

Taranee fixated on the darkness where the ember had been. All her instincts betrayed her actions, but she didn't allow her concentration to falter. Every ounce of her despair and repentance concentrating to her strained wrists. Had it been rope, the heat would have singed them instantly, but the heavy iron around her wrists would take a slow, steady burn to heat to the core. And then she would hope.

Her's eyes squeezed shut as Taranee felt the temperature on her back. She could smell the smoke from her burning sleeves, but didn't let it worry her. It was a test of trust. Taranee had hardly let herself brush a finger through a candle's flicker; the fire frightened her, but she pushed herself to exhale, controlling the thoughts that ran through her mind. As the metal burned brighter she could see the orange glow through her eyelids. Taranee dared herself to peek at the flicking light that filled the room - her shadow enveloped Elyon Brown, preventing Taranee from seeing her, but her voice was frantic, "Guards! Put it out!"

And Taranee smiled. She felt a willful confidence burst through her, knowing her plan was going along flawlessly. Icy water hit her hands and Taranee pulled her arms apart with all of her strength. She could feel herself transforming with the exertion, but eventually her wrists flew apart - to her front. The brittle metal had broken and clanked heavily as parts of the cuffs hit the walls and floor. "If you heat metal, Elyon, you mustn't cool it too quickly or it will crack easily."

Taranee felt herself being more bold than ever in her life. Her voice had been kind and she stepped forward, standing tall next to Elyon in the Guardian form; Taranee looked down at the _Princess of Meridian _through the bars, ignoring the fact that the guard who threw water at her might have given her an easy escape, not yet locking the entrance. As Taranee leaned closer, laying a hand on one of the bars, Elyon swallowed. Taranee opened her mouth, but the girl raised her hands; filling the room with a bright light.

She gasped as a giant bubble seemed to form around her.

**...**

Caleb patrolled a clear line across the floor, pacing while the Guardian picked herself up. His patience had been lost for her as she had become less and less mobile through the forest. Caleb could hear the men outside returning and riling the others as they returned with a captive. It bothered Caleb that they had caught up so easily; _they _also easily having been Cedric's men, had Aldarn's party been overpowered. "You are irresponsible Guardian!"

The girl's russet eyes remained unfocussed and he found himself unable to watch her continue struggling; Caleb yanked her to her feet by her wrist, holding her arm high above her and glaring into her wide, uninvolved eyes. "You're just a boy..."

"I'm older than you are." Caleb stepped back as the back of her fingers reached for his cheek, but she advanced and traced her thumb softly down his face. Fascinated, apparently, by his age. Caleb pulled her hand away, "Why didn't you transform?"

"I didn't say I was older." She frowned, looking sheepish and Caleb didn't move from his hard glower. The girl turned away and sat on the floor, ignoring every chair in the room. "They shouldn't ever have to kill people."

"They have a choice." Caleb wondered if she was even going to remember this. Sat with her legs outstretched and her head tilting heavily, she pushed her hair back though it fell back into it's unruly place instantly.

**...**

_As she sat, Will could feel Caleb's penetrating gaze on her. Her wide eyes scoped the place, and a large part of Will had begun to believe she was dreaming. That's what the walls told her, glimmering and shining with the same shade of emerald as Caleb's eyes. Had she imagined him? The furniture was authentic and simple, but a thought prevented her from touching. 'It's not real. It's not real.'_

_Everything around Will was becoming beyond comprehension. It made her head sting and her heart pound, and Will's hand flew above her eyes. The voice. The whisper. "Are you listening to me? Guardian?"_

_"Uhnng..." Will looked up, peering through watery eyes. She wasn't sitting at all. She remembered now. As though her body had left without her, she had already stood and followed the rebel leader, and Will breathed carefully, reaching out to the transparent bubble that she felt imprisoning her. Taranee's mutter no longer reached her listening ears. Will blinked. "No."_

_The boy seemed less than enthused by her spacey, truthful answer. His hair had been left longer at the fringe than the back, a warm brown that tangled softly as it fell over his face; his features seemed to be in a constant, deliberate form. Will took in his slender physique. He was stronger than he looked like he ought to be. She had barely scratched the snake with his weighty sword, in comparison with what he had managed. The rebel leader had carried her without objection and never let go of his sword. It's hilt protruded from his belt, brown with drying blood. He had abandoned his wide, flared leather jacket and she saw him now, his head tilted as he considered her, as she considered him. Will wondered if it was too trusting to tell him she had been in Taranee's mind as well as her own. Will felt a warm glow rush to her cheeks at the ridiculousness of her half-deluded thoughts, and pushed her hand into her backpack. The Heart of Candracar felt warm and smooth in Will's clutching fingers._

Taranee hugged her knees tight to her, hiding in the depths of her own fantasy. A place where perhaps someone could hear her. Her rounded lenses reflected the bubble that contained her; she had heard Cedric murmur that it was almost entirely conceived of her own mind, but Taranee preferred it this way. In her bubble there was far more safety than any other part of this place, even if it separated her from fire. Taranee preferred it this way.

_Will's finger tips gently glazed her forehead, with the Heart still clasped between them. It's tranquil surface soothing her, she forgot the world. An aura of complete silence and solitude consumed her and-_

**...**

Caleb wasn't sure if she was transforming. The Guardian Leader's skin glowed gentle rose, her being being perfumed and surrounded in a haze of clouded aura. Caleb had seen alchemy, but it unsettled him. His eyes became humble and he found himself watching the floor. Caleb felt the bursting energy from her like none of the others. Whatever it was, it made him step back. Caleb glanced up and she was older, still clutching at her head. Her hair was less careless, but still vibrant. Her long lashes fluttered in her pained state, he meant to heal her before she left. The girl had grown, Will stood tall. Her body had changed, but Caleb saw her eyes had become more resolute. She stared behind him, "What are they doing?"

Caleb frowned. He was reminded of the fury he had felt seeing her grasping the _Heart. _The source of all their power and the leader of the Guardians left it unattended. His eyes stung with rage, "You careless girl, they are decollating the enemy, while you clumsily misplace your powers' entity!"

"Deco-" She wouldn't know what to make of the beheading, and Caleb sighed as she pushed past him, still trying to grasp the situation by moving closer through the crowds. Caleb waded after her, his firm grip on the rebellions' shoulders and arms as he searched for her with exasperation. Caleb found her in the front of the crowds, he reached for her wings as the executioner pulled high his weapon.

**...**

Vathek snarled. Crowds of rebellion surrounded him; far more than he'd anticipated existing. Men and their families: stern youthful faces who had grown as rebels. They jeered, thumping their weapons and stamping their feet on the ground as though taking a prisoner made them untouchable. They were, Vathek had realized when they had removed the thick sack from his head. The Infinite City existed. It was far more than a rumour - a snide joke shared through the castle since the day a starving critter had offered the information. Vathek looked out past this audience of his final moments, taking in the endless Xanadu of luminous jade columns. In some language of their own they chanted, with many other rebels throwing their fists to the air as they shout out, "Rid the miscreant!"

"Eternal exile!"

"Just kill the poor bloody brute!" Vathek eyed the arrogant grin who'd voiced this, the young men were beginning to agrivate him with their cocky outlook and Vathek rumbled with a final rage at their torment. The man's grey-blue eyes were rich with entertainment, creasing at the corners from his smirk. His smile, which was hidden behind unkept stubble and sandy white hair that clawed untidily at the sides of his face. Vathek bore his teeth defiantly as three hands grabbed and forced his head to bow down. A scythe was too loyal to the law and Vathek knew that the rebels used the Kings sword to execute Phobos' loyals. It was a final insult to the crown; the sword was for beauty and Vathek would feel only a sting of the darkness in one clean slice.

"For Pho-"

"**Stop!**"

**...**

Caleb darted for her, reaching out a moment too late as in a blur of violet, turquoise and red Will's body crumbled over 'his'. Caleb lurched at the sight of the sharpened blade being carelessly swung towards both of their necks. He threw himself forward, catching the cross guard in his hands a mere breath from it's target. "Wait!"

"Don't indulge her, Caleb." Caleb's sharp green eyes took on the steely soldier's and Caleb kept his hold on the sword, raising his head to Aldarn. It was with ever ounce of respect and fondness that Caleb had Aldarn ranked above his ability. Aldarn was a fair archer, but of poor strength, yet Caleb would put him by his side as Aketon would be Julien's. Caleb held his loyal friend's gaze, knowing he spoke with an outlook Caleb had given him. Aldarn had never opposed Caleb publicly, though in terms of the crowd it was Caleb opposing. "You will coddle them. The in-compliant will never free us from tyranny."

"Aldarn, without choice this would be it's own city of tyranny." Caleb took care to narrowly miss the definition in his leadership, not that he wasn't expected to seize the rebels' freedom. Aldarn stood, but his stony face bowed. The sword was laid to rest and Caleb stood, looking down on Will. Her heavily lashed eyes were squeezed shut, and she bit her full lip with her head resting against the hands of rebels pushing the servant to Phobos' own head down. Given the moment, she had tightly clenched her fists against the arms of attire. Caleb breathed deeply, taking care not to brush her delicate wings with his torso, his hands hooking under her arms and pulling her gently from the enemy. She resisted silently. In this form, the Leader of the Guardians had become curvaceous, with longer limbs and a strength in them that she used. He only struggled not to use a force that would injure her, aware that every eye present would be watching the ordeal, Caleb was certain she knew he was angry. "Will you lie there forever?"

Caleb dropped her limbs, exasperatedly standing alongside the great drama. He irritatedly reached for the back of his neck, his eyes digesting the audience. The rebellion was in a state of bewilderment. He knew they couldn't grasp what she was laying on the opposer for, Caleb wasn't entirely certain himself. He could see her three Guardians in shock over the matter. And then her loud, uncertain voice filled the City. "I'm the Guardian of the Veil and I demand you release this innocent creature!"

"What are you-" Caleb hissed, but it was too late.

A plump figure looked unimpressed, guffawing, "Innocent!"

"He is Phobos' left hand!"

"Guardian?"

Caleb pushed his finger and thumb against his temples, but the Guardian pushed herself up against the criminal, raising her head with his pressed at the crook of her chest and neck. Will's russet eyes glistened to the Meridianites when he looked to her, "He is my ally."

Caleb could tell in her voice it was a lie.

"If it weren't for this man, I would be dead at the hands of Phobos' sadistic snake!" Caleb watched, unbelieving as many of the rebels' faces changed. They were listening and she was lying within an inch of her life - literally. Caleb had had enough. He grabbed Will's wrist, wrenching her from the beast, but Will spoke louder, "You can't just murder my saviour."

It was over. The rebels were undecided, but the executing group who had found him looked unsettled by the thought of betraying her. Caleb pulled his fingers back through his fringe, growling at her, "And what do you intend to tell them if he kills us in the night!?"

He felt her change in his grip, realising.

**...**

From a distance, Lord Cedric studed the dark Guardian. Consumed in her own mind's equilibrium. Fire was by far a stronger element than the others by Cedric's count. Earth, with all of it's power was burned easily and consumed by the flame. The galing winds could only spread it; encouraging it's anger. And water, might it appear to be the greatest of fire's weaknesses, but without fire and heat the rains themselves would cease to fall. So thus, the waters in the presence of a flame could and would be humbled. Fire did not grow or quench or give breath to the life of the Universe. It only harnessed the ability to destroy it. The Congregation of Being would have chosen a suitable herald to contain such and element. When the Guardian of Fire had shown her control, Lord Cedric had been well and truly impressed by her clever trick.

He pulled the heavy door of the dungeon open when he reached them, glancing back, though in the black darkness he wouldn't find his muse. The Guardian who controlled the will of fire knew and understood it's dangers, and she was cutting herself away, beyond the reaches of her element which was both intelligent and wary. Lord Cedric wasn't certain that the Guardian quite perceived her capability with her powers.

_"Cedric, you awaken the heir..."_

Lord Cedric didn't know whether to turn to the creature. Were there a body at all to turn to, the figure carved thoughtlessly out of the Mother Earth's creation might in fact be impossible to face, being faceless. The Whispering Echos of Phobos needn't be a complete or actual body. Lord Cedric had grown to prefer they didn't have lips; these creatures didn't use them. Their murmurs instead came from a place in the back of Cedric's mind. Were it not possible for more than one soul to share in hearing their voices, he might simply conclude that hearing them was his brain becoming lucid. It was the far more pleasant alternative. To hear a Whisperer speak, it felt as though one of their delicate, pliable, branch-like fingers was barely just working it's way down, stroking his spine from the inside. It repulsed Cedric to know this creature was the original state of _he _leading the rebellion Elyon would defeat. The foliage-man had seeped through the walls as mould; it did not let Cedric attempt to forget that he was there.

_"The heir's eyes flood with the pain of her memories."_

Perhaps the most disturbing reality of the murmuring beasts. At first Cedric had thought the Whispers were mere whispers of the Prince. Occasionally they had a mind of their own. Without a will or conscience however they only continued doing the Prince's bidding. No one was ever to be certain if as a boy the Prince Phobos had been attempting to make life. Their intelligence could grow and decay with them. Cedric quivered, "I felt she would want to face her opposer."

There was no worse feeling than the dread of unknowing. A bead of ice-cold sweat was forging on Cedric's brow as the creature seeped, emotionless, back into the wall's surface. The Prince could caponize or laud Cedric, but the man was not going to know which until it was happening.

**...**

Vathek was an immense, hefty brute. The substantial mass of rugged aqua skin stood, towering over his saviour's miniature form. Will's wings were the only sign of her conciousness, fluttering every so often with her sensuous Guardian form poured indelicately over a table. The girl had blossomed as all did under the illusive spell, though Vathek couldn't fathom what made their transformation necessary. She didn't really appear to be too concerned with her shape nor form, nor the inappropriate way her delicate body slumped over in the presence male figures. Awkward and graceless, Vathek's eyes fell over her, considering that it was because she held a powerful entity that Lord Cedric had had interest in her. Vathek probed, "You lead the Guardians alongside the rebellion?"

"We do now." Vathek knew exactly who Caleb was and he was determined looking and bold, and he was understandably unhappy. It was about the only part of the situation that Vathek could understand. The boy's coarse, olive skin resembled no description of the Prince to Vathek's knowledge. He had thought the man was albino. Caleb was not pale, nor did his hair resemble the white snow of Thanos. Prince Phobos was virtually mythical, but Caleb stood, arms folded, before Vathek looking earthy and grounded. His unflinching glare invaded Vathek's comfort, cutting into him.

"I am unassuming and appreciative." Vathek's head dropped, made modest by the undue act of the Guardian. Vathek was wondering if she might have lost consciousness when her sombre eyes peered at him from the crook of her elbow. She had in this hour, become daunting to Vathek - far more so than he might ever have anticipated her to be. The anxious, red-haired child he had reached for on Earth: Vathek had not forgotten. He would not easily forget her, nor Caleb whose nostrils loudly blew out air, as he strode hastily out of the room, obviously vacating the premises of his irritant. Though Vathek couldn't be certain of who or what that was.

When Vathek's eyes returned to her, the Guardian's gaze had dropped down to the wood of the table. Vathek's lips parted, but he sighed and turned away from her.

**...**

Aldarn had been stood outside the open doorway, waiting. The Meridianite rebellion's small crowds had dispersed far quicker than they usually might. A thick murmur spreading through them of The Guardians. The boy's uncertain gaze drew slowly up Cornelia, causing his face to prickle with a warmth. Aldarn had never seen three such beautiful woman - four, he supposed, but perhaps her mortal body was stuck in his mind because Aldarn couldn't see the same in the Guardian Leader. He still remained, however, in awe of the girl's transformation. The thought that they were younger made Cornelia difficult not to stare at, though she didn't really appear to notice him. Her frown made her only look complex, with her long poker-straight hair flowing down her back and over her shoulders in a stunning waterfall. He supposed she had admirers by the dozen. Though she was a picture of beauty, Cornelia was hard and pronounced. Something was striking despite the soft rose blush to her cheeks; the cloudless blue sky Aldarn had seen paintings of encased in her irides. Perhaps it was her self awareness that she was flawless enough that artists would create paintings of her. "Eyes up, Aldarn."

His met hers. Both competing for the darkest shade of pink, their eyes flew to one another's for an intangible moment. He could only hope she knew that Drake was lying; Aldarn blighted whatever right the sloppy blonde male felt to approach them all. There was no birthright in the rebellion. He wasn't royal, merely a strong man's weak son. A _dead _man's ill-fated one. Julian had founded the rebellion with Aldarn's father, and as respect Aldarn assumed, Caleb had yet to sentence the law-weary man. Drake, who did not want to be here nor pretend otherwise. Drake, who spent his time cavorting with wives and daughters, because Drake had no choice to leave. He had inherited his father's _'sins' _against Phobos when Julian had passed. "Go entertain yourself, Drake."

Caleb's timing was never not impeccable. Had he not been raised by Julian to lead the rebellion, Aldarn knew his father felt they would already have diminished. Cornelia, who had prettily turned a slightly fuller shade of pink returned to her hardness when Drake met her eyes with a coy smile. Aldarn felt quiet relief when she snorted in disbelief of his suggestive expression, throwing her nose into the air. Her eyes darted as Caleb bypassed them, "Caleb?"

If it weren't for Caleb's bad blood, Aldarn knew even Drake would be in trouble. Meridian women felt the fear and saw filth in his forged Whispering body, just as they saw something that Aldarn could not in Drake. Caleb's sculpted features aligned perfectly, and looked neat alongside Cornelia's. Perhaps to her, his origin didn't matter. "I will return, I didn't expect-"

"Will." Cornelia's tone was flat and unaccepting. Aldarn had concluded that perhaps there was more than met the eye to her; she being the only voice he had heard from the Guardians. And the Leader's. No one was going to forget that.

**...**

In amongst a constructed light, Whispers resounded, winding between the floral limbs and earthy bodies, their voices were melodic; a symphony of his Kingdom's secrets. Prince Phobos' fingers brushed one of the elegant incarnations of his gardens' life, the Whisper's dispassionate face seeming responsive to his touch. The palace was a sanctuary of gardens. His sister's eyes had been wide and impressed by the jungle of life that Prince Phobos possessed, though the Whispers silenced and retreated from sight in the Princess Elyon's presence. Phobos' fine lips curved into a gracious smile as a single, pale petal drifted down from high above him. His velvety hand outspread at an angle; patient eyes watching the shell-coloured share of a flower wind unsteadily down toward him. As the petal by-passed his eye level, Phobos softly caught the piece of rose, his palm the barrier between nature in that moment. In Phobos' garden, there was no true changing of seasons. Life grew in ever corner since the beginning and Phobos preferred it this way. _The creation of life separates us from Godliness._

On occasion a single whisper would be louder than the rest. Prince Phobos gripped his fingers tightly, the petal crushed, already a dying rose in his hands. Life was in fact the slow decay of being; in a constant cycle. To encourage and to prevent or hurt its natural course was the Godly given right of any mortal man. Prince Phobos' arm became limp beside him, with his fingers releasing and letting the crumpled late drop in the shortest route to the marble encased floor.

"Send for my sister's custodians." The endless figures of his youthful Whispers ceased their gaiety and turned their titillated faces to him, before their close-mouthed voices once again became chittering and animate. Prince Phobos could not face the names of his sister's nurses. '_Galgeita_' had not been discovered, but her name too was a faceless title that Lord Cedric had presented him. Curiousity drove him to thank them for handling her. To inquire the inconspicuous name Brown, which was dull, alike his sister's eyes. Prince Phobos did not wish to travel far to meet his father's officers. "I wish to make acquaintance with them."

The Prince Phobos was unclear - _if the pair had held the end of a lewd, depraved line of blood _- as to why exactly they had chosen to salvage it to the last viscous drop. His sculpted face held no true emotion whilst considering the irony that they, alike those who governed that the family tree ought marry onto itself, desperately preserving the Royal line were so dense to how their blood was becoming thicker and thicker. Steely eyes caught the clump of rose before he lifted his vascular wrist. His veins a deep blue that shone through his fragile, transparent skin. Instant death. That was a clot, Prince Phobos had made himself aware while others grew ignorant. And yet here he was stood, the highest concentration of the Escanor line.

Phobos' lip curved unsuitably at the subject. He and his sister, just like his mother.

**...**

Will's nose kissed the unpolished surface of the wooden table, feeling better but worse. Her head was pained by Vathek's presence; doubts and concerns swimming in and out of her concious thoughts, while her unconscious mind felt probed: invaded. Her hair hung in a curtain around her face, seperating Will from her reality, but there was no escape from Taranee, who pulled herself into a bubble or Will's imagination. Will reached out, mentally, feeling as though if she could just get close enough to the African-American girl, who sat in some meditative pose with her dark lips parting in a soundless mutter, Will just might be able to hear h- "EeeKk!"

Her back straightened and arched like a cat's. Will could feel the icy cold liquid running right down her lower back, it made her squirm uncomfortably. The stuff had hit her head first, rolling thinly over her hair. Will's mouth hung open, seething, as she pulled her soaking wall of cherry red aside, glaring out to the least favourite person she had encountered over this ordeal. Caleb shoved the mug on the table, busying himself with papers and maps. He turned and her offended glare must have caught his sharp jade eyes. It made Will more furious that he was handsome - arrogant, egotistical pigs were far worse than simple assholes. "You're healed. Now get out."

"I was fine." Will fumed. Her eyes met Vathek's - the _'beast' _seemed far more dignified than the self-resenting rebel leader. She fully intended to storm out, but as Caleb turned to the door, leading a trio of young women she refused to meet the eyes of, Will sunk into her chair sulkily. Her anger was injured by fact, "You carri- I don't know how to get back."

She winced, because Caleb snapped at that; he pivoted on his feet and threw his arms out, obviously beyond his limits with her. Will pushed her bottom lip out, biting it furiously while her cheeks grew hot. Partially because she hadn't intended the reaction out of him at all. She was just... Lost. "What would you like!? You think I can just summon some jester to escort you back!? That I'd just send a man right back into the direction of death!?"

* * *

Drake carefully eyed the inflamed porcelain face of the Guardians' leader. Her copper-coloured eyes dropped low as her mood, with her diminished size made quite likely smaller; she hunched nonchalantly, dragging her feet along as though unaware of the sudden death that could loom behind every shadow. Her features were soft, with a small nose and pouted darker lips. This girl had been a stunning woman, though he was sure she wouldn't know that. Drake had grinned lopsidedly to Caleb, enticed by the commitment to escort Will Vandom. "It's not a boys name. It's just a shorter version of an ugly girl's name."

Drake grinned. She'd been silent for the entire journey, though Caleb had barely left when Drake remarked it. Her deep frown had slowly faded along the slow trudge through the forest, Will now stared at her interlocking fingers while she continued absent mindedly. Drake himself pulled his sandy hair back, sliding the short dagger he carried into it's leather sheath across his chest. The place was dull, and Drake could only estimate his journey by the Guardian Cornelia's damage. He had watched the conceited beauty snub her own leader, and shrugged plainly, "You've certainly helped us clear the forest."

"I didn-"

"Why aren't you incorporated in your own association is my question." Drake pointed his finger out, daringly. He felt rather pleased to see her broody pout return, if only because it meant that he was onto something. The rebellion's leader certainly wouldn't be giving out any clues. The child exhaled, before throwing her head back and groaning.

"Why is this still my problem!" Drake smirked, Will rolled her neck therapeutically round with her hands over her face, but he waited patiently for her startlingly wide eyes to peek through her delicate fingers. "I'm not so much the leader..."

"Then what do you do?" Drake was curious. Will smiled uncertainly, an eyebrow raising as she walked on and Drake found his head tilting to watch her as she continued forward. He dragged his teeth over his lip in contemplation of her slight physique. Quirky, but Drake found himself warming to her like he had not managed with the others.

"Uh... I sort of lock the door I guess."

Drake frowned, baffled. "Is that it? Why are you in charge?"

"Gee, thank you..."

"I only meant-"

"Well, I had a map, but funnily I found myself without it recently. I was _'official map opener'_."

"Your job is to carry a necklace and a map, and you lost one of them."


	13. The Fire of Friendship

_There was no true end to this place if one wasn't looking for it. If her eyes remained on the complete darkness that stretched in towards her though, it was almost certain that the four walls could be identified, but they were hazy. The room had grown bigger; more vast in the dense black substance that was filling the place. Below, a source of light shimmered, but she daren't look down. The shadows here were heavy, and solidified the space around her single, solitary bubble. Will wasn't sure why she couldn't look down, she only knew that she mustn't. As time stood, so gradual that it seemed not to be moving Will began to wonder what it was that she must not look at. The time perhaps less still outside of here, she was sure that beyond this blackness it would be passing more naturally. The air was clean and crisp in this bubble, but Will wasn't doubtful that the eclipsed surrounding shadows would, over time seep in; that must be what was behind her meditative breathing. Will had found her own willpower futile in relaxing her composed posture. It felt unnatural, alien to be stuck this way. ...Not looking down._

_The darkest corners of the room gave Will the impression that this bright, reflective bubble was only a mere foot or so from the floor, but the luminous light beckoned her; urging Will to look. "It's deeper below us I think."_

_Will's heart erupted in shock at the sound of Taranee's voice inside her. Will found herself free; she felt herself, with her hands pressed against the indescribable inner-wall of the bubble that tingled on her palms, her body leant forward inquisitively as she had been trying to will herself to do for an eternity, longing to peek out. Will turned, jumping at the sight of Taranee sitting, crosslegged in the bubble. Her eyes were closed. "Taranee!?"_

_Her dark, cocoa irises revealed themselves to Will, who felt an alarm and a relief coursing through her. Taranee was forboding, yet peaceful. "I think if we look, we'll possibly fall."_

_"But h-" Will frowned, gazing out to the side of the bubble as she gently rest her hand again on the prickly sensation that seemed to form it._

_"This vesicle is just an idea, Will..." Will watched Taranee's lips move; she herself mouthing the word 'vesicle' distractedly, not sure of what the word meant. Taranee seemed quietly impatient, losing a certain amount of her neutrality to her comfortable verbalisation of her discomfort, "The bubble, Will! Nothing in this 'Meridian' place is what it seems, I don't assume their gravity applies like ours either..."_

_Will's brows furrowed; her gaze exploring the arch or room she'd been graced permission to look at. "What?"_

_"We're only floating," Will felt the urging pull of her focus below them again. Will fought it. "For as long as we aren't aware that we shouldn't b- Will, don't!"_

_Will's eyes grew wide and full of fear. The air became tight and she backed up, next to Taranee as the bubble started to shrink around them; the texture had become stretchy, plastic and suffocating and Will screamed out, feeling herself falling; she gripped but couldn't hold on to Taranee... The room..._

Will's eyes moved back and forth, searching for something that wasn't directly visible in her murky bedroom; the morning fog outside her window reflected in Will's mind, she felt groggy and uncertain. Will pressed her tongue against her mouth, it feeling dry and uncomfortable. She felt out of place... Like she had just been somewhere else. A swirling vortex of liquid light streaming and crashing recklessly around her mind. "T-Taranee..."

Will pulled her duvet closer to her shivering body.

**...**

Hay Lin was sat, with her back to her Grandmother's bedside. Yan Lin stirring tea quietly soothed Hay Lin; it reminded her of a big room, full of reds and golds, in which a young woman sat with her son in her arms, rocking him gently and listening to the sound of her tea as she stirred it. Her father, apparently. It made Hay Lin's eyes well up to think about: she could only muddle the memory with images she had of a faceless mother of Taranee stirring much more vigorously while her father perhaps paced. Hay Lin hadn't closed her eyes all night, but she could barely see when she let the winds consume her. She had merely listened to her Grandmother's deep, sleeping sighs - realizing the light had begun to return only when Yan Lin had finally arisen. "Hay Lin, it will be all right."

"But what if they hurt her?" Hay Lin's moist eyes released only another of many layers of her tears. Her eyelids were inflamed and she knew from a lifetime of being more upset than she should too easily, that her face would be pale and withdrawn from sleep denial. She had seen herself suffocate creatures to unconsciousness; she had seen them drowning in Irma's unforgiving waves. Cornelia had in fact been the one to release them, whilst throwing out a confident threat to their Prince. Why would they ever feel any reason to pity Taranee? Hay Lin turned, on her knees, grasping the soft hand of her Grandmother, "What if we never get her back?"

"Hay Lin, my sweet." Yan Lin's eyes had aged, but Hay Lin knew her Grandmother to say that age was only the body revealing it's journey to wisdom. The elderly woman had grown thinner, more brittle, "You will do everything in your powers to do what is right. And that is all you may ever ask of yourself."

"Did you ever lose anyone?" Hay Lin sniffed, rubbing her eyes and hoping to be soothed with the memories her Grandmother had taken to whispering to her. The Guardians of the Veil had been bright and new and shining; Yan Lin had been a peaceful warrior for all that was good in the world and she had fought to protect the innocents who could not or did not know to fight for themselves.

"Yes, my little Hay Lin." The voice was hesitant, and Hay Lin had come to recognise how suddenly her Grandmother had begun to tire. It frightened the air guardian endlessly, if only because her father was so frightened. He was a reserved man, so unlike herself and her Granmother. She had never before seen him cry, but there he had been. There he was often. Just a whimper in the night's silence.

"Are you going to be alright, Grandma?"

"Hay Lin." The elderly woman smiled, it made Hay Lin feel a warmth spreading through her despite the fact that Yan Lin had not been out of her bed for countless days. She shifted, happily pressing her cheek to her grandmother's raised palm. "The air flowing through me, no longer keeps me strong. It's under your power now."

"Oh..." Hay Lin wasn't ready to lose anybody yet.

**...**

Taranee awoke seamlessly and silently. The only signs that she might have lost her consciousness at all being that Will Vandom was not in this room and never had been; and that the room itself remained intact, though she had experienced otherwise with Will beside her. There was no floaty, radiant light that came from below her. Not anymore. It had faded and solidified when the bubble had been formed to encase Taranee, Elyon realizing that Taranee would not be falling. The key was acceptance. Taranee had felt denial, ignoring what ran through her like an instinct; she still felt guilt when she thought of Will... And Taranee at this point had decided simply to by pass anger. She wasn't shallow enough for the emotion, pushing through to detachment and exhaling calmly in her foreign environment. There was no time for a crude temper here.

To be frank, here it didn't feel like there was time at all.

It was testing, to be surrounded with so much nothing. Taranee supposed they wanted to drive her mad, but she didn't have time for that. Even if she were cooped here forever. Taranee wasn't going to question herself; her existence. If nothing else, she knew they would grow impatient before her. The darkness was supposed to allude her, the silence trying to convince her she was alone. Taranee felt the tickle of anonymity, but logic stood to reason. _I will always know what exists exists. _There was no reason to speak when no one was listening. "How will you know?"

The voice was young and female. Taranee cleared her throat, "I remember."

"You could so easily be just a thought." Taranee didn't grace the being by studying her surroundings; she was comfortable in knowing that someone was most probably there, and if they were not, well it wouldn't surprise her. She had resolved that eventually her own mind would succumb to arguing against her. That was the point of this type of confinement. "You could so easily be a dream."

Taranee smirked. She supposed she wasn't meant to know this one; to understand the catch in the argument. It only made her more compelled to feel she might in fact be arguing with herself, "_Someone's _dream. Somebody must exist."

"You're very clever." A scrape was followed by a flare of blood orange, the flame giving way to the young intruder's features. Her eyes shone violet, within the orange reflection from the flame. The young woman's dark hair fell around her face in a far more dignified, but similar length of bob to Will's. Except her hair was thin and black, and her fringe cut straight across her face. Her smile was merciless, "The Prince has been watching your mind, Taranee Cook."

"Perhaps you are my mind."

The girl found this funny. "Perhaps."

Taranee watched her lean upward, pushing the torch into some sort of catch or holder. It helped the light travel somewhat; beaming down on the thin waif who stood, tilting her head slightly before Taranee found her heart uncontrollably pacing. It was unnerving to watch, but her eyes didn't leave the body as it was swallowed and exchanged for a mighty arachnid. Taranee lost herself then. She suddenly found herself why, at the mention of the Prince it had only been Will's weaknesses that she'd considered exploited by him... Of course he now knew her every fear.

**...**

Irma found her worst fears coming to face her as Mrs Rudolph pressed the test paper firmly down on her desk, facing the table's surface. It disheartened her where it once would have made her smile to hear Hay Lin sigh under her breath, "Taranee loved a pop quiz..."

It had already been passed around the majority of the school - as far as Irma could tell - that Taranee Cook had gone missing, by the time Irma and Hay Lin had swiftly backed out of morning registration, Irma being powdered with questions. Sergeant Tom Lair, a.k.a. her father, had mentioned the firm wristed _Judge Cook, _but somehow Irma had never connected the dots. Taranee's mother was important in Heatherfield's world of crime. Really important. And now, over breakfast she had found out, the woman had thrown up a huge dispute about the matter of her missing daughter with the police force well before it had gone 07:00. Everyone knew that Taranee was missing. Irma stared unenthusiastically down at her test. "How am I meant to think about a stupid test! My friend is gone!"

It hadn't been a joke. It hadn't even been intentionally spurted, but as Irma's hand flew to cover and clamp against her mouth a class-full of eyes had already shot to stare disbelievingly at her. Mrs Rudolph, who Irma couldn't help but scowl at, knowing the truth, stood and frowned over her glasses at the girl. "Irma."

"Yeah, I know." There wasn't the usual twitter of excitement following Irma as she slumped from her chair, pushing one foot after the other to boredly leave yet another class. For once she craved the normalcy of meeting Uriah Dunn - the skinny, ginger runt and dubbed Heatherfield Criminal - in the halls on their way to detention, because the silence of no one finding it funny for once was making her eyes sting unwillingly. She stomped through the halls. Empty halls.

It wasn't until she got to Principle Knickerbocker's door however, that Irma felt truly remorseful for being sent to the office so early on in the day. After sitting for some time, the door was slowly opened and she - as she had come to sit suspecting - met her father's eyes. Thomas Lair silently eyed her, cracking his knuckles absent mindedly as he spoke in hushed tones to her Principle. "Miss Lair, you can wait inside my office."

Principle Knickerbocker had grown far more at ease to the situation than either Irma, or her father. Irma didn't dare look up, but paused as she passed, "D-ad..."

"Go. Sit. Down. Irma." In his uniform, Irma's father was not the type to take such an informal greeting. Irma took a single step into the office and found the door being shut loudly behind her. Irma swallowed, taking a step toward the polished wood. "In the end, Judge Cook is a pressing woman, but we have to follow protocol and wait the 48 hours."

Irma had somewhere known this, but still felt her mind switching on; she moved each finger separately, counting... They maybe had a day and a half... Two if she or Hay Lin pledged themselves as witnesses.

**...**

It wasn't silent, but it was quiet in the Infinite City. Many Rebels daren't speak at all, whilst others simply took a greater deal of care in checking around corners before using their tongues, what with Vathek, Phobos' servant, among them. Caleb was glad. With Raythor alone the boy considered mouths too flexible, and constantly urged the men to be more careful, but Caleb knew better than anyone the danger and stealth of Phobos' spies in any form. Prince Phobos was more elusive than any being on the planet, and it was often shocking for people to find that Caleb himself could not admit to recognising the man. Myths and stories influenced Caleb to believe he was not an exact replica. The rebellion lived in hope that Raythor hadn't said anything: that all of this was not a futile entertainment and power-play for Phobos until he decided to irradicate them all. The room was shabby. Few places of pure solitude were found in the Infinite City, but after Julian, Caleb had claimed the four walls as his fortress of privacy. The bed lay empty and unused, but the small table - which filled what was left of the place - was quilted. Maps crawled over it; once discarded curling until they could make their escape, rolling over and across the floor in heaped masses. Caleb had spent the majority of the night pouring over every route to the castle dungeons, "She couldn't have possibly gotten in!"

"Lord Cedric brought her," Aldarn was tired. He had been tired before he had returned to the Infinite City, mildly concerned by the child he'd expected to be a woman. Aldarn had been exhausted however, the moment she had recklessly flung herself over the beast now most likely lying to them. "That's what she said, right."

"Vathek said she'd been alone. She said she hid from Cedric in a crack in the wall _outside_."

Aldarn's head hit the wall behind him as he rolled it back, between exasperation and disbelief. Caleb, for all of the years Aldarn had known him, had never taken a risk so blatantly ignorant. "Vathek also said that he attempted to save no one. Why can't we just be done with this traitor?"

"Aldarn." Aldarn sighed. There was no way to diminish the slither of doubt the Guardian Leader had created and wedged into the rebellion's minds, Aldarn was aware. The plausible outcome being a rebellion within itself at the death of Vathek, and, quite possibly Caleb's head to follow the Prince's servant. Phobos' rule had led people to become wary and rash, were they not properly governed, with their anger contained. Aldarn cracked his eyelids open in time to see the last pile of unread maps being pushed to the floor. Caleb had given in, breathing restlessly, "How did that impudent child get into that castle?"

"Apparently, the front gate." The suddenness of Drake's voice wasn't enough to startle Aldarn any more than his words frustrated Aldarn; it irked him to hear the queasy, confident tone that Drake's voice always carried. The male slumped in and in a motion of distrust, Aldarn noticed Caleb hastily gather his maps. Aldarn was never sure if Caleb expected Drake to betray them, or simply use the vital information as a hand cloth. He lifted a hand and alternately motioned running legs with two fingers, "Just casually strolled in there..."

"Don't be ridiculous." Aldarn muttered, rolling his eyes at a natural remark from Drake. "Anyway, we thought you were dead."

"Hoped." It had taken a while for Aldarn to grasp how serious Caleb's flat tone was intended to be taken. It was only at the mention of Drake's name that Caleb bent, tidying his work away. Caleb could grow instantly tired at the mention of the older man. The male was arriving near enough fourteen hours from his departure. "What could have possibly obstructed you?"

"Caleb," Aldarn bit his tongue, knowing it was only going to worsen the situation to have him prohibit Drake for Caleb. But it was difficult to endure Drake's egotistical nature, swinging his arm to hit Caleb against his back, heavily. Caleb was notably bored of attempting to discipline the man; instead the Whisper-boy seemed to simply wait in hopes of his decease. "I was gathering important, _useful _information from the fiery portal-closer of yours. Very excitable. Very shy, I approve."

Aldarn shared Caleb's moment of silence, and he stared to the rebellion leader who turned, stunned, to Drake. "She's a child!"

"You're a child." Drake frowned, nodding at him, before a grin spread peevishly over the careless man's face. "They still let you hold the big sword."

"Drake, I instructed you to escort her, not have her escort you! She is not a whore!"

It wasn't something Aldarn thought would matter, when it struck him that _she _was red haired, violent and as far as Aldarn had noted, a waste of good resources. He found himself shrugging it off to a struggle between Caleb and Drake since the moment that Julian had pawned his own son for a manufactured one. Drake raised an eyebrow, "I was _conferencing_ with her. Think what you will, I hope you're aware that Vathek is a traitor."

**...**

Cornelia was far more mentally apt than people who didn't know her well gave her credit for. She had been able to direct her girls home without any escort. She simply hadn't the time nor patience for _educational learning, _and saw it as a frivolous waste of her time. She was going to be a professional athlete. In what world was she going to waste her class room-bound hours of the day being bored senseless? The most positive end of social conversation seemed limited to the snow; the thin layer that dusted Heatherfield was spurring hopes for some that the January ski trip would not be cancelled due to the same heatwave that they'd been subjected to last year. Cornelia could care less, even when Alchemy tittered into her ear about ice-skating. And the remaining population of Sheffield Institut-_ion _was focussed on making up and sharing every _'detail' _possible about the missing Taranee Cook. Most of the year didn't know her. No one seemed too upset, and some to Cornelia's disapproval, seemed to find the overblown ordeal funny. "She must be missing. She's missed three lessons!"

"Is that supposed to be funny?" Cornelia spat, ignoring her professor's warning look at her disruption of anyone who'd been doing Geography. The boys rolled their eyes and Cornelia turned to face the window. A part of her blamed Irma for being in trouble, but Cornelia mostly just relived her own anger at herself. Taranee had been relying on her. That morning, she had sat with her breakfast in quiet solitude until the hoards had passed her by; even watching Will Vandom somehow drop her bike mid-cycle and continue running toward the school. Cornelia couldn't care less this morning if she was late.

Everyone she cared about seemed as though they might slip away in an instant. Her pool-blue eyes took on an icy shade to match the winter; reflecting the frost as she gazed out into the school's grounds. Her eyes drew to a tree she knew as their own, which hung over itself in a curve, providing the perfect shade and a smooth place to rest your back. Every year as the summer came and went, they'd lain under that same tree, talked about the same things - _different boy, same discussion_. It must've been a week before Halloween that Elyon had dragged Cornelia under it, to ask if 14 was too young for Matt Olsen. A sad smile fought Cornelia's watery eyes, a longing to admit to her best friend she had dreams about... Cornelia frowned. About Caleb. She pressed the nib of her pen to her hand, writing herself a reminder to find something long forgotten. Cornelia's eyes flashed back, silently thanking the tree which still clung to the very last of it's leaves: one last glimpse of autumn. Their Tree.

Just a memory now. Just a dream, shared between children.

**...**

Miranda had been contented when the bubble burst, pulling herself into her original form. The Guardian of Fire quivered, pressing herself against her cell's walls. It was impossible to see her, but Miranda could feel her; could hear her fearful, heavy breathing. Taranee Cook had no idea where or what Miranda was at this moment and it was invigorating to anticipate the dark skinned girl's shaking fingers brushing against the woven silk of her web. As they did, Miranda turned on her heel, leaving before the timid scent became too much. "Is it real now, Guardian?"

"Tsk, tsk," Miranda's confidence dwindled and her smirk faltered; a pulsation in her as she wondered how Lord Cedric so easily managed to elude her senses. Her chest became tight as he smiled at her, his shoulder leant against the wall between this cell and the slightly better lighting of the dungeons. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with your food?"

"I don't eat, I drink." Miranda bit out, gritting her teeth though she endlessly enjoyed his theatrics with her. It prevented her madness, to see a sense of humour in the dank place. Miranda's face changed, as he stood over her, encasing her in his scent. The scent of blood followed Cedric. Miranda looked away, sensing her emotion coming to her expression, "Aren't you a little busy?"

His silky fingertips pulled her jaw to face up to him, Miranda's violet eyes took in his clouded blue ones. "I did notice that you've been avoiding her Majesty."

Miranda scoffed, rolling her eyes sullenly.

"Remember your placcce, woman." Miranda straightened, forcing her eyes to the floor when his grip on her face became tight and painful, "I think it's time you met her."

**...**

**_Third place, that's great!" Cornelia nervously fiddled with the floral band in her hair, which had been rigidly sprayed into place since that morning. It wasn't often that Cornelia was pulled out of school for a tournament, but as the representative of Sheffield Institute, she had, of course returned with a medal. Elyon's eyes shone with excitement, having only started attending the highschool that year. "You always do so amazing! I wish I could have seen!"_**

**_"You're my lucky charm, Elle." Cornelia smiled admittedly, pressing her dainty fingertip to Elyon's small, pointed nose. Elyon's interest was genuine; it helped when Cornelia's school friends from last year were more concerned by the fluttery dresses than Cornelia's actual skill, to have Elyon stood through every rehersal, joking that it was all for Cornelia's instructor's body during the lifts. Third wasn't that great. "Even if all I know is that you'll be waiting for the news when it's over..."_**

"Are you okay..?" Cornelia shook her head, glaring fiercely at Will who awkwardly pushed her hair behind her ear. Will was quick to frown back at the beautiful blonde when Cornelia's hostility returned, and Will still wasn't sure why her meek effort to figure out which side dish was more edible for her _'lunchmeat parcel' _to be accompanied by was being disrupted by someone who'd made it so clear their paths shouldn't cross, "What does this have to do with anything anyway, Cornelia? What do I care if you won some medal back in-"

"She gave me something, Will." Was Cornelia's expression not so honestly earnest, Will might have simply discarded her lunch to get away from her. It wasn't as though Will had any intention to eat it, not with spidery brushes of sensation crawling over her skin from the inside of her brain... All she could hear was screaming... But Cornelia grasped her wrist and stared into her with a desperation that Will had never seen before, "I need to find it! I haven't seen it for years, I think it's at her house!"

"Why-"

"We weren't friends, we were _best friends_," Will moved her mouth uncomfortably, unwilling to admit she had no idea what Cornelia was talking about, "We lived at each other's houses! Half of everything I own must be at Elyon's house!"

"Jesus, it must be crowded there..." Will pushed a piece of gum into her mouth, abandoning her lunch-slush at the counter for some other sorry soul to collect. She chewed slowly as she processed the unexpected encounter... She could swear she'd ditched these sorts of responsibilities... "Isn't Caleb meant to like, mentor you, or whatever you're looking for...?"

"I don't need a mentor!" Will jumped back when Cornelia snapped. She wondered if there was a familiar voice wailing in all of their minds; it might explain why someone might feel as touchy as Cornelia. Cornelia stood tall above Will, but it didn't threaten the girl too much while her brain was full of tortures, "I know you found that portal somehow, Irma saw your bike. And Caleb is going mad over how you got into the castle."

Will was beginning to feel as though she was on trial. Her gaze wandered over Cornelia's shoulder to the two pairs of eyes staring vigilantly at her, "Right..."

"If you really have some sort of sense when it comes to magic, you'll find me

this drawing."

"Drawing?" Will blinked. Her brown eyes back on the unmoving expression on Cornelia. "It's some piece of crap drawing? You want me to break in to some girl's house, who is apparently Queen of the fucking underworld of hit-me-on-the-head-and-try-to-kill-me, for a drawing!?"

"I think it's of Caleb." Will was beginning to question the security of this girl's having access to immense power. She tried to ignore the fact that Yan Lin had been adamant that Will choose someone more sensible.

"Cornelia Hale, is this supposed to be a fucking joke!?"

**...**

Miranda was a beautifully petite girl, with a neat and choppy bob of flawlessly smooth black hair. Her eyes were a deep purple that seemed to penetrate, inviting Elyon to be engrossed by them. She was a pale girl, with prominent collar bones, even in her loose-fitting dress. Elyon found herself quietly suspicious of Miranda's enthusiastic smiled, not returning the gesture when the girl embraced her tightly, "I'm so happy to finally meet you!"

"Excuse me?" Even hurt, the girl's eyes shone radiantly; she was poised and firm, yet stood looking incredibly tasteful and Elyon felt a twinge of something similar to when Cornelia Hale had first... Elyon's mind wandered, recalling how immediately different to this female Cornelia was. Her perfectly falling hair, that never seemed out of place. The pristine aquamarine in her eyes that dazzled anyone who looked into them. Her stainless, idealistic smile, that lured everyone to feel compelled by her words and her every whim. Elyon blinked at the young woman staring inquisitively at her, with a hint of pink to her pretty cheeks, she must be slightly older than Elyon. "I, um, didn't know anyone else lived here..."

Miranda smiled, an eyebrow raising as her hand waved behind her, "Lord Cedric lives here."

"Oh..." Elyon blushed, realizing she had never even thought to question Cedric's presence. The man smiled in a way that when Elyon realized he stood, still watching them her knees buckled. Elyon turned, motioning for Miranda to walk with her when she realized that the girl was looking at him in the same way, "Are you a Lady?"

"Lady Miranda..?" Miranda smirked, saying it strangely to imply she had never considered the thought, Elyon blushed more obviously, but felt herself easing to Miranda's pleasant tune of laughter, "No, I'm not an anything! Your brother has me stay here, ever since Lord Cedric recovered me from a great catastrophic massacre of my people."

Her tone was saddened, but Elyon's eyes grew wide with interest. The story was beginning to sound familiar. "Who killed them!?"

"I couldn't tell you. I was so young..." Elyon was looking back at the space where Lord Cedric had been standing; there was something more than what everyone was telling her. Elyon's mind, however seemed only to be a continually multiplied nucleus of questions. Her brother, on the occasion that Elyon came across him seemed to be a question in himself - the man eluded her to think that he had answered something when she asked, only for her to much later realized he had only further confused her. Miranda's eyes had been on her when Elyon noticed the silence, "Your brother invited me to be raised here. There was no reason to- I often wonder if he missed you."

Elyon didn't understand why it always seemed as though Miranda might be lying. Her words were unsettling. There was just something that Elyon didn't quite recognise. An untold meaning behind what Miranda was saying; something that hid behind her eyes. Had Miranda replaced her? "Prince Phobos tells me he did every day, but I never see him."

Miranda bit her lip, reserving herself. Elyon felt lost in the castle, but she didn't let anyone how lonely she was. She had almost visit Taranee because of it, but Elyon remembered what the girl had tried to do to her. "Your brother needs you."

"You're an excellent actress, Miranda." Elyon meant nothing of it, but had a bad habit of using denial to pity herself. Elyon looked up to the startled looking young woman, "No one needs me. Sometimes I wonder if anyone misses me either."

"I would miss you, if you were to go and I've only known you for a moment." The girl's confessional was quiet and bashful, "I am so alone in this place, and I am never sure what I am doing here, Princess. I'm not an anything."

"Just a fly on the wall." Elyon smiled, recalling her lifetime on the side lines. Miranda grinned, holding her thin arms behind her back, shyly.

"You could say that."


	14. The Fire of Friendship 2 of 2

Cavigor's entrance lay open and unguarded at the very top of the cylindrical structure. It's height was beyond measurement. The prison, to date had not been _by definition _finished: it was designed that way specifically by the King. Cavigor was abandoned, however; a constructed graveyard of those who had not been executed by the King of Metamoor, and those who had been trapped there accidentally. A tomb. It's curse, indescribably cruel, had only been duplicated once in all of the universe. It's security almost impenetrable. Prince Phobos had alternative sentences for his outlaws because as Lord Cedric understood, only His father had known what the key to Cavigor's imprisonment was. And when the building stopped, they learned one could never open it's eternally locked cell doors. It was because of this that Lord Cedric had originally been disbelieving that the Royal guards responsible for abducting the Princess Escanor had been ordered to be taken here. The high-rising exile of iron had been worked carefully for years, and tiled with a treated black glass that ran in a smooth circumference of doors. The walls between the cells and freedom had been created a foot and a half thick. Cavigor was a desolate place, void of, and yet saturated in life. Each cell concealing the guant remains of a, or many prisoners corpses. Even - since some times ago - many guards' armours lay containing bodies that reached out, begging; or hid and cowered to their best efforts in the corners. There was - perhaps purposely - no corner. When Cavigor had been improperly evacuated, it had come to it's desert form as now.

A skin of dust and possibly cobwebs filmed the surreal, raw partially underground carcass of law-fulfilment. It gave a sense of mortality to those wardens stripped of their flesh and consciousness. Lord Cedric pulled this sheet of time back by a single finger, from one of the many oil burning lamps that hung from the perfectly absolute kingdom of criminals. It had long ago been emptied. This was a place to be banished into one's own mind; not dead, nor living. When Phobs had come to reign, a single inmate had been removed, causing the decease of Cavigor. Lord Cedric had theories of his own about the true condition of the remaining prisoners behind cell doors. He strode lazily down the endless, spiralling staircase - the center of Cavigor. Many levels of this staircase had been destroyed as a new layer was built of the prison, but Cedric was careful to walk gracefully down the remains, passing decades before the Rule of Phobos. There was no doubt of coming to the wrong door, as Raythor stood faithfully before it. The cell was propped open, unable to close since it had been forced years ago. "The Prince requires the prisoners, Raythor."

"On what order do I release anyone to you." Raythor's eyes set on Cedric as they always did; the soldier challenged him only as Raythor knew he could match Cedric. The older, disciplinary male had lost his mind to Cavigor. Which he guarded as though it was still populated. Lord Cedric didn't have time to entertain the man.

"I ssaid, _The Prince_."

**...**

"What do you mean, protocol?" Irma didn't need to explain herself though, as Cornelia sat down beside them. The brunette as well as Hay Lin ignored what she'd said though, concerned more by her volume: throwing their hands out and shushing her. Cornelia's head flew up to survey the canteen, quickly falling on the body of her friend's father. In the peripheral of her sight, Cornelia noticed Will undoubtedly look for what she was seeing. Unless Irma Lair was being suspended, his grim expression when his eyes met Cornelia's meant he had heard her. Not that anyone _wasn't _talking about it. Cornelia leant in to the pair who'd been discussing the ordeal, "_Does he know we hung out with her?_"

"Does that even matter if he starts to ask people?" Hay Lin was one for kooky fashions, but even Cornelia found she couldn't take the retro goggles the girl was wearing. She pulled them, stretching the elastic back and letting them loosely thunk back onto Hay Lin's forehead. The girl smiled prettily, but pulled them back over her eyes, "Besides, we have a whole day and a half to go get her!"

"To..." The room had gotten louder. Cornelia frowned, grimacing as people's vapid conversation filled her mind; it created a blurred wall between her conscious mind and wherever any real thinking went on. She rubbed her head; Taranee was helpless without them. Hay Lin's sweet smile irked her endlessly, "It's not that simple!"

Cornelia didn't know what to do. Her fist fell loudly against the table which seemed as though it almost began to tremor. Taranee was in trouble. Taranee was alone. "Jeeze, she just meant we have time before Taranee's officially missing-"

"Taranee _is _missing!" Cornelia snarled. Taranee was missing. Taranee couldn't fend for herself. Taranee was alone and helpless and in trouble and Cornelia didn't know what to do and the room was loud and she didn't know what to do and Will- Will... "Ugh! We'll talk about this later, okay! Didn't anyone see the snow."

* * *

The Royal guards, Alborn and Miriadel had sworn themselves to the King Zaiden and his wife for over a decade when the Queen, Weira had passed. From then on, the time spent on the Meta-world in Miriadel's memory was brief; a collection of moments that had become unscripted images in her mind. Miriadel had been hand-selected by Elyon's intended wet nurse, to smuggle the infant to Earth. Heatherfield had been young then, and welcoming.

In the last days, before she has known she would leave, the King had been pronounced missing. Miriadel recalled the little prince had somehow had Meridian thrust upon him. She hadn't been instructed to take the prince with her, so she didn't. A face-less name; Prince Phobos. In all of the years that Elyon had been and become Miriadel's daughter, she realized she couldn't truthfully claim to have concerned herself with Elyon's brother. Apparently he had been searching for them though; evident from their situation now. Miriadel was idly aware that he would soon be coming of age. That Phobos had not yet been crowned their King. Law, apart from that appeared to be lawless and discarded. Cavigor had been at least. Everything in the prison had decayed, except from the walls themself. But _they _had been built to last an eternity: restricting the evils of the universe as tribute to a God or Gods of some sort. That was simply a rumour, but Cavigor's immaculate, faultless black walls were undeniably real and solid. Apart from their cell. Not that a free cell ought to be there - in the centre levels of the building. The treated glass walls didn't shine the way the halls did in the cell. Long scratches engraved the immaculate finish. The walls in the corner's glass had begun to split and crack. The tiles on the floor had however been destroyed completely. Crushed and chipped: chiselled from the stone beneath them to a signature neither she nor Alborn recognised. The emblem of some clawing shape around a sphere or the mere residue of madness maybe.

The question that frightened Miriadel most; was she safer in or out of the cell. "Phobos requests you."

Miriadel felt a bile claw her throat, glaring past the hazily familiar face - or what was left of it - to Cedric, who bowed his head, mockingly. Alborn's hand grasped her arm tightly, pulling her to stand beside him. She had barely looked at him in his own skin. "What are you doing with her?"

Cedric smiled widely then and Miriadel realized how firmly Alborn was holding her now. She sealed her lips, facing forward. There was someone far better that she could ask anyway.

**...**

Will didn't consider Greek mythology as something that counted as history at all. And yet it cropped up at the beginning of everything. Zeus apparently, was the source of everything bar abstinence. Will ran her fingers to her head from up the back of her neck. She was vaguely aware of Professor Collins' eyes occasionally travelling to her, presumably aware that her jotter had yet to open and that she was still zipped into her jacket. Will didn't have a pen anyway. Not anymore. Cinnamon eyes drew along, over her ink-stained fingers. It had snapped in her grip and then the evidence had oozed over her. The sticky, silky sensation brushed like a phantom pain over her skin.

And there was screaming.

For hours, she had been screaming. Just the same instructive begging over and over, and Will knew already that Cornelia was sitting behind her. Will's being Elyon's old seat, not that it had been her first choice to impermanently-permanently be placed in a _more accessible _part of the class. Collins was simply stalking her. Will pressed her eyes shut from the visible noise of the classroom. It wasn't as though Cornelia would take instructions anyway.

The final bell rang and Will threw herself round to face the blonde's table, "If I were going, I would go now."

"Excuse me?"

Will ignored Cornelia's offence - her gaze meeting Alchemy's. The girl looked suddenly amused. Will started fiddling with her fingers then, wondering how she could rock the boat to her favor. She could care less what Alchemy thought. "I would go now, before **_I _**closed the tear, and I would undo my own mistakes, rather than bringing **_boys_** into this."

With Cornelia's mouth hanging open slightly, Will forced her par-petrified body from the classroom. _"Wha? Did you get into a fight with scaggy over a guy?"_

**...**

The heiress of Meridian wasn't hesitant in revealing her experience of the life that she had been brought to here. Not once Miranda had given Elyon a security that her brother apparently had not: commonality between them. With whitish grey eyes that surrounded clouded black pupils, Elyon was not dim, nor was she even nearly as apt as Prince Phobos suggested himself to be. She was conscious enough to be impatient though, and it made the lonely princess doubtful. Elyon had an awareness of her surroundings whilst somehow barely glancing at the long corridors around them. She supposed it was Earthian, to talk as much as they did. Miranda had lost track of the path their conversation had led; it was beyond her how far they had wandered, speaking more naturally than she'd anticipated. Elyon was curious and, Miranda faltered as they came to a halt at the tall doors. Realizing where she had taken them. The furnished wood was painted green like moss, with a decaying gold to the frame that Miranda avoided eye contact with. Elyon glanced at her, with an incredulous smile as terror crept over Miranda's features. "Where are we?"

"_Phobos..._" Miranda swallowed, looking past the princess as Elyon's brother stared at her peculiarly. Even with one brow raised dubiously, the Prince's face was delicate. His cultured room was no place for her to have brought the princess Elyon, but in truth she hasn't noticed that she'd done so. Miranda eyed the becoming Prince, whose stunning platinum hair fell loosely around his shoulders, reaching dangerously close to the floor. His seemly posture and majestic nature weren't dissipated, but it struck her that acting irrationally had bewildered him somehow.

"Elyon..." His select tone was uncoordinated; it was foreign for Miranda to have surprised him. Elyon's wide eyes were concerned, rather than hopeful when she saw him, making Miranda question what they had spoken about. Elyon narrowly avoided the subject as though uncomfortable and it made the unspoken words only more wanting. Miranda could only dignify his quizzical look with her mouth falling open slightly. She was, even to herself, dumbfounded. "Miranda." Prince Phobos neared his own door warily, acting more inadequate as he waved a hand to seal the door's lock, than he was superior to Elyon. Miranda was never fearful of Prince Phobos, but felt anxious as he stood far too close to her. "I didn't realize, I-"

"I am busy, Miranda." His harmonious voice was endangered by inexperience, his eyes heavy lidded as he studied her features. A simple lift of her chin in his fingers feeling dramatic as Elyon frowned at her. Miranda cleared her throat, quietly, with her eyes locked to Phobos'. They were powerful and lost, "I have a mediation to carry out." "Phobos?" Prince Phobos' coarse gaze flew to his sister, morosely breathing at the tension of no one quite knowing what they were doing here. And Miranda was stunned by his honesty. "A sentence, Elyon."

**...**

Elyon was silently entranced by the surreal definition of them: Prince Phobos was flawless, and Miranda was humble. Elyon could feel her prior phantom existence returning as the pair's eyes locked carefully. She'd become quickly aware of what Miranda was, with Phobos' lips twisting gently in one corner, as though he was unsure of whether to allow himself to smile at the dainty girl. He wasn't going to be crowned a King until he turned twenty-one; a year and then some, he told her. Elyon had lost her immediate faith in Prince Phobos filling the void in herself, with the modest hours they had spent together feeling futile.

Lord Cedric had probed her, once, to study, admitting it would help her to articulate herself. It was much more than Elyon had taken it all for: more than learning to live in a world of animalistic creatures, surrounded by happily ever after. "You'll have to go."

Her timid eyes fell to the floor; they were informal and trusting, like Elyon desperately aspired to be with him. "Phobos..."

The door clacked shut and Elyon's eyes flew to Miranda. She stood, unmoving where Prince Phobos had left her and Elyon frowned, denied by the pair of them. She couldn't shun Phobos for being Phobos. "Why are we here?"

Elyon already knew she wasn't going to be getting her answer. "Elyon-"

"Shut up, Cornelia!"

* * *

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Hay Lin peered into the vortex of lightning, clasping her backpack tightly against her chest. Her thick, baby blue winter coat didn't protect her from the hollow gale, unsettling her as it wheezed past them. Three, where five had been. Even then, not the right five. Somehow, when she was doodling, the serious looking rebel leader didn't quite fill the gap in her guardian super-group (nor did his outfit correspond). Hay Lin glanced uneasily to the grey hazy sky, with her mind on Caleb watching the snowfall.

It was hard to appreciate that it had been just last night; so much had happened. She hadn't been prepared for the other side. Hay Lin had seen a brief glimpse of the chaotic war of Metamoor versus Phobos and she'd wanted to help, but Hay Lin hadn't forgotten that it was Will who'd refused Caleb. Will who'd turned out to be getting the backlash of their handiwork: Caleb had muttered fuzzily what she'd been doing there, but Hay Lin was starting to think she was the only one who felt guilty about it. Irma might, were the girl not focussing too deeply on Taranee. Hay Lin couldn't pretend that she'd thought much about Taranee. It hurt her. So she thought harder about Will, who's red bike... Hay Lin looked to the distant spot on the side walk, where Will's bike had been; to Will's red bike, propped haphazardly on the gravel. Her eyes were so honest, not like any of the people who led the cliques, or in t.v. shows. Not like Caleb's, which were hard and denied access. Hay Lin smiled soberly at Will, who stood, having turned up at some point; silently watching. Will waved shyly, her fingers slicing through the chill Hay Lin felt. She moved to raise her hand, but Cornelia and Irma were transforming. "Let's go!"

Hay Lin squeezed her eyes tightly, concentrating on the warm breeze that gushed around her. The indescribable sensation flowed through her veins, releasing an energy within her. The world became a distant place as she was surrounded by a silvery, airy aura within her mind's eye. As it faded back into reality, there were a few seconds that she felt displaced and unusual, before she could look up. And by then, Will had gone. For whatever reason, taking Hay Lin's confident strength with her. "Hay, you coming?"

Cornelia had been so angry since this had started. It was hard to remind herself that it had only been a short few weeks since she last saw Cornelia's natural, confident smile. The girl was so easy, so laid back and took everything in her stride; that was why they loved her. And now it seemed alien that someone like Irma would like someone like Cornelia, who would like someone like Taranee, who was so much more intelligent that Hay Lin wasn't sure why the girl liked someone as air-headed as her. Hay Lin bit back the watery feeling that she'd experienced throughout the day and flew past the others, directly through the portal.

**...**

Wilhemina Vandom clasped the Heart of Kandrakar close to her own chest, having crossed over the street and slid down the side of the nearest building. Tears stained skin much darker than her own, but it clawed at her and choked her to feel the younger girl's pain. Taranee's darker eyes swam just beneath Will's sight, in the back of her mind: the constant image. She was hot, so incredibly hot though and couldn't focus as a new skin of sweat encased her. The scent of burnt charcoal and plastic filled her head, making reality seem nearly as hazy as trying to grasp what was trying to breach her conscious mind. "Stop...please."

Not that it was going to do anything. Whatever had made her sick hadn't come from a chill or chest infection. She could feel hot lava under her flesh; coursing under her skin and pumping through her arteries. Will considered it might be driving her mad because it was burning up her oxygen lev- no she hadn't. Will wasn't sure how her very breathing was a struggle and yet her brain was getting more resilient. Strings of considerations running through it, making her hurt, making her stress, making the functions of living impossible to focus on.

"Taranee..." Will recalled her burnt skin chilling, her head feeling heavy and drenched and the world going quiet as darkness crept into the corners. Her last consideration being her own: what were they going to think, when someone found her collapsed just feet away from some crazy light show... Then she remembered how far from the main-streets she actually was and felt far more comfortable with slipping out of the ambience. She drowsily rolled her head back, taking a minute to grasp that the sign said _Ye Olde' Bookshop_ and rolling her eyes. She had been here then... "Hnnmf..."

_The air was dank and stubborn; too syrupy to be easily swallowed no matter how she tried to breathe it. It was neither flat, nor atmospheric, but fear had a clench around her chest and Will wasn't entirely sure why. The world around her had changed, again, but Will was entirely certain that she was more of herself than she had been on the side-walk. The floor wasn't even, but she was standing firmly on it. The heat had gone - it wasn't particularly warm or cold. The place was too dark for her to even glance down at herself, but it wasn't claustrophobic. It took Will a moment to figure it was because she had an insight of distance. Someone was with her._

_"H-Hello...?" Will could hear the wheezing, which was far quicker and more discouraging than her own; a raspy pant that barely seemed to have any effort put into it. Will wondered if perhaps they were out of oxygen. She slid, rather than lifted her foot to move it forward. Some unknown fear made her uncertain that it would be there when she put her feet back down. The pant was limited, and feeble, but Will was close to it faster than she'd anticipated. Will inspected the dark, black gas that was posing as air, her wide brown eyes watching the drooping head emerge into her vision. Taranee's braid hung limply from her dark hair, which lay unruffled in all of what Will had thought Taranee had been feeling. Will reached out a feeble hand, "Taranee...?"_

_Will gasped, stung, retracting her hand which had swept right through Taranee. This wasn't real. Nothing was real anymore. "How long has it been, Taranee?"_

_"I- could- care- less." Taranee's reply was strained and had to be listened for, but Will had pivoted on the spot to look behind her. It must've been Elyon, because Will recognised the face behind the flickering candle. Elyon, with wide, but small grey eyes that looked placidly forward as though unaware of the torture her friend was going through._

_"STOP IT!"_

_No one blinked. Not Elyon. Not the black haired girl beside her. And Will didn't care to look at Taranee, but she did and the girl hadn't faltered: peering up and glaring right through her with unadulterated panic hidden behind her sterile expression. Will's eyes travelled what was becoming brighter, clearer; she could hear the footsteps coming toward her with the candlelight. "What do you think though, a week?"_

_It hadn't been a day. Will's heart beat faster as Elyon got closer to her. Her breath was cooler, hitting Will just barely apart from Will's body. Or was she? Perhaps Elyon had stepped right through her, not that it mattered anyway. Taranee was pulled against the wall. Thin, glistening wires of thread that seemed to stick to her, binding her hands and her...her neck, Will realized when the dark girl lifted her head up. Taranee was incapacitated. And Will tread back, falling through Elyon and finding that the floor did catch her when she hit the ground; tripping as she backed away from the visible torture of watching. Taranee's face became teary again. "I-...don't- know!"_

_Elyon's back was all Will could see, but she heard the girl's voice breaking while the other child smirk at the candle falling. "Miranda says we're supposed to burn witches."_

_"NO! TARANEE!"_

**...**

The candle fell and rolled, whilst it's flame timidly flickered against the unevenly built stone floor, ready to burn out and be done with, had it not passed the strands of silk that lit quietly, but not unnoticed. Elyon had instantly become at a war with herself, but that wasn't enough. The dismal roomfell into darkness, excluding the network of ember strings shrinking together fluently as the number of lines of flame - at least as quickly as they were dying. They sizzled like a lit flare. The temperature around Taranee became victim of the fire's intense heat, creeping up recklessly. In reality, after seconds after seconds, the web shouldn't have continued to burn at all. The glow wired smoothly, in a controlled motion and pace. Taranee was beyond exhausted by her tortures, and the insolence Elyon so freely displayed. The tired, day-old dramatics she'd already played through didn't interest Taranee this time, but then Elyon had a new audience to be dazzled by her. The spider. It's image crept under her skin as Taranee focussed her mind on the web. "W-what are you doing!? Stop that!"

"Don't be naive, Elyon." Taranee gasped it. The dark girl knew Elyon now. She knew the type of personality traits and characteristics that Elyon had, which fell into an exact replica of so many teenage girls. Not a cooly executes revenge to flaunt her power as she hoped. It was just a temper tantrum. Not everyone could make a scene as defiantly subtle as Cornelia did. '_Elyon Brown_' wasn't a princess, she was a school girl. How easily anger had been declared with such a twisted statement repulsed Taranee and she hoped Elyon would one day realize that. The fire had worked it's way up and around the web to her body, and ironically felt arctically cold as it wound around her cocoa skin, reflecting an orangey glow from the firelight. Her face was an assortment of shadows for as long as the molten colours were laced around her restricted neck. Taranee, boiling inside, wondered it perhaps all the darkness had driven this from her. It made her spit. "When _humans _on Earth, _Elyon_, burned the women accused of witchery, they were on trial. The ones they found guilty of being witches_didn't burn._"

The final cords of web crackled more pronouncedly into ash before the room plunged finally into darkness. Taranee paused then, feeling a cold sweat form as she composedly passed the two holding their breaths, restricting her own until she turned a corner to a place of light. Taranee broke into a run, the room behind her reeking of a charred plastic smell that seemed to cling to her. She willed each torch she passed to die out and realized at the sticking sound that the stone had heated so much her trainers had melted at the soles. It didn't stop her, she was just worried about getting caught. "Do you think you're outsmarting us?"

The tall man didn't look up, pushing the cell door in his porcelain fingers closed and turning the key. Taranee's eyes traced his long blonde hair, backing toward the wall opposite and slowly edging around him. Her eyes fell on the pair in the cell; creatures, with mournful eyes and rotten, mould-coloured skin. Taranee wasn't sure whether he would fight her, "It's not so hard outsmarting Elyon..."

He snickered under his breath, but as he turned his head Taranee found herself panicking: this was all a state of panic and a longing for normalcy. Her hand found the next torch before she knew it would be there, throwing it at him and clenching her eyes tight. She wanted it to blow. She wanted the walls to burn down around her so she could just be out of the pla- "_Taranee, stop it!"_

"Will?" Taranee's eyes flew open but it wasn't Will. The fire had blown out and climbed the walls, curving dangerously, but the cell was filling too. Meek handfuls of clear space for the prisoners to hide in. What had she been thinking? It was Will's voice, she was certain, but Taranee didn't know how to stop it. She didn't even know how she'd started it, so she pressed herself against the wall, with tears spilling from her. "Y-you threatened to set me on fire! You- l-eft me in there!"

**...**

Elyon discarded Miranda's side, with no compulsion to leisurely stroll from the dungeon. It hadn't been meant to turn like this. She broke into a run until she couldn't go further; the border of fire curling into a solid wall, that Lord Cedric emerged from hastily just as it swallowed the space behind him. He took a fraction of a heartbeat to consider her, and Elyon flushed recalling his expression of concern to her familiarity to Taranee. At a safe distance, beside her, Elyon watched Cedric eye the orange flames wastefully, muttering to her, "She'll only burn herself alive. Leave her."

It hadn't occurred to Elyon, how far from invincible to flames the power could make the dark girl. It merely meant she would be charred at her own hands... Elyon wasn't sure she understood, though.

"What else do you think would fuel the fire in here?" Elyon's eyes traced the brightly lit stone walls that surrounded them, her eyes brushing with cold black pupils that stared out from a shadowy cell. She hadn't let herself notice who she was passing until then. Elyon wasn't sure what she could do. She wasn't sure there was anything. All of the information in her mind had the tendency to collide and start fires within her, but she hadn't meant for it to turn like this at all. Miranda had simply encouraged her to pry Taranee for answers. The small girl took her time, but finally came into contact; the sickening scent of smoke filling the place, choking them.

**...**

"These wings are useless! I can't fly at all!" It was marshy on the metaworld. A dripping wasteland of unwelcoming muddy spew. The dismal landscape seemed to be ever sunless, not that the chirpy teenager Hay Lin minded. Irma - or a sultry form of Irma - scowled resentfully from beside Cornelia; pulling her arms across her chest indignantly, whilst glaring up at their petite, chinese friend as she sailed across the bitter breeze, effortlessly. They had been wrong, in thinking that _they _had taken to _their _powers most aptly. Their journey was across the same forrest: now an apathetic swamp of bleak bark carcasses. The trees had been long dead before they had first gotten there, however. It wasn't _'Guardians'_ doing. The ethereal reality was a morbid leftover of their battlefield. It oozed gloom, and Cornelia figured to herself that it hadn't helped that a rain had drenched what they had left here. They had left Taranee here. Irma didn't notice the wet, or didn't take much notice, stroppily trudging across the uneven plains. She made her way difficult, by refusing to wind around the last of the tree-trunks: clambering over them. The brunette heavily wheezed, "What's our plan exactly?"

Hay Lin's speed was sharp and unexpected like a gust, and she seemed _virtually _to appear from nowhere in front of them, "Our plan sounds like Will's plan!"

Cornelia pressed her lips firmly together, fighting the urge to snap at her. She spoke through gritter teeth. "Will didn't _plan _anything."

"Our plan **_does _**sound like Will's plan..." Irma murmured, pouting as Hay Lin flew in a great loop; the girl chittered with melodic laughter at Irma's words, though Cornelia rolled her eyes. Hay Lin had changed least in her Guardian form - her long hair still playfully danced in raven-black pigtails, only longer; her nimble frame remained nimble too, only her limbs were leaner and had lengthened. She didn't look much older though, whereas Irma looked incredible and matured. When she wasn't pulling faces.

"You don't know that!" Hay Lin quipped, smiling innocently.

"Will _is _very clever..." Cornelia turned, raising a brow to Irma's wistful smirk, wondering what possessed the otherwise entertaining girl to aggravate _everyone _she could manage to. The tall blond rolled her eyes, turning away; her nose flying upwards at the mention of what Caleb thought of Will. She was a pest, and Caleb thought that. Cornelia smirked as she willed a vine to raise from the sodden mud beneath them, hearing Irma trip, "**HEY!**"

The word echoed out over the murky place, saturating the air in Irma's voice. A distant movement could be heard responding through the thick mist surrounding them, of metal and yelling and voices. Cornelia shrugged, smiling, "That was easy."

"We are going to get caught!" Irma hissed and Cornelia ran her fingers absentmindedly through her hair as the winds picked up. Hay Lin bubbled happily in the currents, making them boisterous.

"That's the plan!" The air guardian exclaimed.

Cornelia grinned as Irma froze, looking at her, "That's the plan?"

She grinned prettily, standing tall in her guardian form, "That's the plan."

"Oh! I am _so _good at that!"

Cornelia withheld a laugh, as at her will the grounds began quivering. "Tell me about it!"

**...**

The walls had become structure to a burning tower of cool flame. The sun had consumed her. Taranee's body lay curled fetally, with her fingers clasped onto her the shape of her skull; laced in her short hair as she wept with the anguish of hell in her mind. She was alone, and she was her own monster now. Taranee feared the flame only as much as she admitted she feared herself. What had she done? She couldn't look. Her lungs in her mind were filling with smoke. " '_I was really expecting us to have more...trouble_.' "

The hollow chill that Taranee felt was starting to diminish; she could feel the temperature creeping up and the fire started to do what it was supposed to. She could hear her plasticy rain coat bubbling, though she'd already abandoned it. A thin layer of perspiration covering her lip as the voices echoed in her head. "W-Will?"

" '_Put it out! Irma, put it out!' " _Taranee's eyes opened wide, staring into the depths of distress themselves. They were empty flames she realized, with unfocused eyes. Longing to ignite and devour her. Her own element... Longing to gorge upon her. Taranee struggled to stand, but a forceful ocean swallowed the aisle of light and her consciousness. She gasped for air, but the flames had consumed it.

**...**

"Are you alright...?" The aged male voice trailed off, and Will grimaced as she reminded herself of her own name.

"Hnn... Will..." Will murmured, absently, before her recent past filled her resting senses; Will sat rigid, her eyes flying open in fright, realizing her proximity with a stranger. His sloped, rounded nose was half an inch from her own, and the elderly man's wide startled eyes stared into her equally large pupils speechlessly, though his were filled with concern. Will bit her lip, swallowing as she sat back against the store's wall; she smiled shyly through red streaks of her rogue hair, pulling it back from her face. She felt bashfully amused, grinning at the man, as he scratched his scalp at the balding center of his head; his bushy white eyebrows furrowing. "I'm Will."

"I suppose... That if you're not alright, at least you're happy about it." Will nervously pulled herself up against the wall of _Ye Olde' Bookshop__, _finding herself looking down at him. The elderly man pushed a large pair of rounded glasses to his face, throwing a thumb behind him. "I did think you were taking a rather long nap out here... I work across the road!"

Will noted the swirling writing over the pet shop, _Olsen's_. Will's blush was quickly masked by her intrigue; sounding a little too dubious as she eyed the book shop, feeling nauseated as she recalled the sensation of her collapse. "Across from... _here_?"

"Strange man, isn't he?" The man frowned at the place, crossing his arms. The windows were clean, but on the inside shutters had been pulled down to conceal whatever was inside. "I remember Philip was as healthy as me! And he never mentioned his son planning to take over if-"

"If?" Will's stomach dropped, realizing what she'd probed at, not sure whether to try to divert the conversation.

"My dear, at my age your Will is a afternoon hobby," The man joked. Will wasn't sure if she was supposed to laugh and stared down at her feet. "For all the time he's met my Grandson, Matthew, he didn't-"

"Olsen!?" Will felt dizzy again, when the man tapped his own nose happily as a response.


	15. The Power of Fire

Irma dully stared at the iron bars that were apparently expected to contain her. She was beginning to doubt her faith in Cornelia - who seemed every day to have strayed a little further from the bounds of their friendship - but even Irma had to admit that Cornelia's dazzlingly wide, full-lipped smile was almost contagious, infusing a new confidence in the brunette. The mildly reptilian guard eyed them carefully, but Irma had grown bored of playing victim, "Can we break out now?"

The green creature, who's eyes were deep maroon where the white would be and white in the iris, snorted at Irma as she incessantly tapped her foot; her patience worn thin. His laughter was short lived, however, when a cool splash of water hit his face at a lazy flourish of Irma's wrist. Were she not offended, she might have enjoyed his confusion at her pulling moisture from the very air. But she _was _offended.

"**_Excuse me?_**" Irma pouted with her swollen, sultry lips; glaring at the slimy-looking creature. The beast frowned, before looking away from them. "Yeah! I thought so! Why don't you just crawl back into the water!"

"Irma, _please_." Cornelia's voice oozed charisma and charm, with a gleeful chime to it that provoked Irma to grin maliciously at the guard. The ground began to shake and rumble as the floor beneath him crumbled into grains like sand; enveloping him. "Lizards live in the desert!"

Irma smirked, and Hay Lin's laugh tinkled prettily, "Ooh! And trees! Do a tree!"

The wide-eyed, panic-stricken monster shook his head furiously, but Cornelia was busy feigning thoughtful for a moment - raising a hand to her face and exclaiming brightly, "Right!"

With that, Cornelia's finger flew up as though she'd only just been struck by the idea, and roots began to emerge; pulverising the cell surrounding them. The petrified guard was almost pulled into a branch as the trees grew and blossomed, but the reptile-man squirmed desperately, causing him to fall. Irma bent over his shaking body, "My bad!"

"Um... This way?" Hay Lin swooped easily into the air and Irma watched her do so, enviously. The girl pointed uncertainly, but when Cornelia nodded Hay Lin brightened immediately, "Let's go!"

As they made their way through the long iron corridors, Irma felt herself becoming impatient again: this time with their ease in accomplishing the flawless execution of their barely strung together plan. "I was really expecting us to have more-"

Irma stopped dead, wincing at Hay Lin's sharp u-turn away from the wall of flame.

"...trouble." Irma swallowed, barely getting the words out of her suddenly dry throat. "B-but this is fine..."

With a loud inhale, Irma was stunned that Hay Lin was the first to take action, by blowing the flames; causing them to bow to her mercy. She took a moment to breathe normally, before blowing again. The fire curled dangerously around Hay Lin's more concentrated attack; clawing at the walls to their sides. Irma jumped at Cornelia, who'd grabbed her shoulder, exclaiming, "Put it out! Irma, put it out!"

Irma bit the inside of her cheek. A bead of sweat was already running down her face at the intense heat, but Irma glowered through t, "Water!"

Irma sucked in her own deep breaths, focussing on the small, barred tunnel at the back of the cell they'd been left in. Presumably at the back of every cell. Except Irma didn't really think they were tunnels. Pipes. Hay Lin's voice was almost concealed by the sounds of racing currents and lapping waves in Irma's ears, "Irma nothing's-woah!"

Irma let her mouth fall open; the ice-cold wave hitting all of them simultaneously as it coursed and cut into the flames. A high pitched shriek indicated that Hay Lin had been first to spot the centre of the fire: Taranee cowered in her natural form, curled in a minescule ball defensively. Irma raced the others to Taranee's side and Cornelia placed a cautious hand on Taranee's back. To Irma's relief it had instantaneous effect: Taranee clung to them, emotionally. "You came back!"

"Of course we did!" Cornelia sounded stun, Irma noted, but the blonde only hugged Taranee closer, protectively; smiling as tears formed in all of their eyes. "We're just glad you're okay!"

"Um...guys..." Irma looked to Hay Lin, before following the path of her pointed finger.

**...**

The bashful waves parted and evaporated instantly as they conflicted with a light equal to the sun.

"I've learned a lot." Elyon smiled wryly, feeling a growing resent for her former friends. Cornelia was a beautiful Guardian; her parted lips pinkish; her pale blue eyes full of emotion. If only it was real. Even if it was, Elyon wrote it off as regret: regret for betraying Elyon in her finest hour. "As you can see I have powers. Powers that will grow to outmatch all of you!"

"Elyon!" Cornelia stumbled back when Elyon willed her power; her hands filling with light as she concentrated as Cedric had moments before told her to. She could be undefeatable.

"Is that-?" Elyon could feel the power seeping through her, to her open palms, but Irma- her funny brunette friend - was pointing beyond her. Cedric's hand fell gently on Elyon's shoulder. She could see strands of his long blonde hair blow carelessly past her. She felt the tension in his fingers and knew he was transforming. It had been Cedric himself who had settled her final uneases with his appearance in this form. Elyon enjoyed the calm engulfing her as she remembered his slender finger on her lip. _Nothing can be judged by just one reflection of what it seems to be. _Prince Phobos appeared to be delicate and young, but Lord Cedric was wise and strong. Elyon's brow furrowed. These girl's had appeared to be her friends. For so so long.

Cornelia's sultry Guardian figure stepped forward. Elyon watched the gorgeous sway her glamourous friend's long purple skirt. "Elyon, please! You have to come home! You-ugh!"

Cedric's long tail fell heavily between them. Hay Lin and Irma were smart to keep their distance with the fire Guardian, but Elyon knew Cornelia was stubborn. "This is my home! When I was born I was taken! By my so-called-parents, who were Royal Officers! My mother was dying and they betrayed my brother!"

"Oh and he sure looked after this place!" Elyon glared. Irma would regret her exasperated retort; the brunette's arms out and her eyes rolling. "Who wouldn't want this guy for a brother!"

Elyon felt her anger and passion rising, "He tore the city to pieces to find me! Cedric was even sent further! He was going to search the Universe!"

"That's not the truth, Elyon!" Elyon's eyes had become teary and she turned away from them. She snarled, "Get out of my sight before I destroy you all!"

"We should be going after them."

Elyon didn't watch them go. She watched Miranda eying them with temptation: Miranda shared her urge to punish them now. But Cedric had bigger plans. He shrank back into his humanity; his piercing blue eyes claiming her, "That was only four of the five..."

Elyon span, looking up the deserted mess of a hallway; shadows moved in the cell closest to the origin of where the fire Guardian had started the inferno. Elyon looked past them, into the distance, with her voice unsteady, "..._five?_"

* * *

Judge Cook was a well respected and stern disciplinarian. Other than her strict posture and poised nature, she was known as an impenetrable being throughout the courtrooms. Her long black bob fell pristinely around her face at all times; her pin skirt was never creased. Her daughter's cocoa skin contrasted perfectly with Judge Cook's pale features; Taranee's eyes felt dry, with her mother's forehead pushed against her own, while the woman firmly grasped Taranee's shoulders in either hand and let tears pour from her. It was surreal to watch her mother cry, when Taranee had had nothing but a shrug to explain her absence. But that had been last night and today was a new day. The phrase had meant more than ever before over the week passing, with an alternate world locked up in the back of Taranee's mind. Keeping her as sane as she could be in denial. _'I guess somebody made it to school.'_

_'Attention seeker.'_ Taranee flushed, startled as a pair of unfamiliar bodies maneuvered around her; passing their comments loudly as they pushed lazily through the Institute's front doors. It wasn't natural - even her mother had been unusually outright about her _poor baby_. Taranee shifted her shoulderbag uneasily as she stood at the front doors, resolving to divert her eyes no longer. Taranee blissfully ignored the images and thoughts crawling from her mind, resolving on zen. Hay Lin had simply stated she acquired the state of mind through ignorance. Hay Lin was definitely one of the most admiral sorts of people. Taranee pressed her eyes shut, trying to clear her mind of the darkness and the monsters lurking in the shadows; the corners of her mind vaulted out of Taranee's conscious thought. She braced herself and pushed the doors open.

"Oh gosh."

_'Is my hair okay?"_

_'I hope Mrs Rudolph forgets she assigned homework.'_

_'Look at me, look at me, look at me,' _Taranee stared as she girl bit her lip, watching Matt Olsen pass her without a second glance. But his mind was on practice with his band that afternoon. Joel Wright's mind was lazily in sync, but Martin Tubbs squeezed - _unnoticed _- between them, strictly mindful of his textbooks. And every other voice in the school seemed to blissfully chatter without concern in her ears, without one person's lips moving that matched what she heard. The words cut into her and as more eyes travelled to her she couldn't take that she was the, _'Time waster.'_

Taranee grasped her head tightly, trying to ignore Meridian as it whispered it's presence in her ear. Was anything real? Tears threatened to erupt from Taranee as she consciously reminded herself not to show them. She strode, pushing through noisy hoards of people. _'I bet her mother disowned her, pulling a stunt like that.'_

_'Who does she think she is?'_

"D-on't listen to what they're saying... You... Taranee?" Taranee took a few moments to realize that Will had actually opened her mouth. She eyed the girl, considering that Will hadn't come when she processed what Will had said. Could she hear them too? "I could hear you..."

Will's head dropped as she looked at her shoes, Taranee was speechless. When Will looked up, her wide eyes were frenzied and distraught. Taranee frowned, "The others came for me, they were there for me when I needed them, I-"

"I was there every second." But Will had dug her chin into her collar, hanging her head in shame. Taranee's memories breached their confinement; she saw fire and dark, and Will. Will squirmed before her, obviously agitated and nervous. Taranee found herself unable to watch the girl incase Will cried; it struck her that she might, making Taranee nervous. She found herself buried in Will.

With the redhead collapsed around her, Taranee's mind wandered to Will's, noticing how the noise of everyone had faded as she watched herself. Watched Cornelia. _Had Will led them to saving her? _Taranee blinked as Will separated herself then, easily disappearing in the crowd.

* * *

The light of Meridian followed the Prince to wherever he strode. Lord Cedric's eyes glazed over his surroundings uneasily, acknowledging their wide; all knowing, yet blank eyes as the Whispers surrounded them. It was breathtaking and bloodcurdling to watch their unnatural tranquility. But that had expired the moment that Miriadel and Alborn had been forcibly pushed into the Garden of Eden, and every Murmur's eyes fell to them discerningly. Lord Cedric's posture grew straighter, his eyes watchingly scanning the creatures as they began emitting a hostile ambience. The scent was savage; the clean air sharp in Cedric's lungs. Lord Cedric forced a witty smirk, looking at the burn-worn figures cowering amongst the Prince's living nettles. "They're harmless. As far as _I _know."

And with that Lord Cedric turned to leave, keen to remove himself from the silence of the Whispers. Their unsympathetic gazes were bitter and he denied himself the right to acknowledge their emotional devastation: that he could comprehend them; that he could feel them.

Prince Phobos' incandescent, frosted eyes were unreadable on him. Lord Cedric halted as the door silently shut behind him. He couldn't be sure which side of it held the greater danger. Lord Cedric had not considered the Prince's mind in all of Elyon's returning; the young man's smile was played almost undetectably across his thin lips. Lord Cedric bowed his head, submissively, "My Prince."

It was surreal to watch the male lean an elbow on the stone wall beside him, placing a finger to his lips; bemused. His eyes were engrossing; whimsical, but Cedric resisted them. "Are you quite alright, Cedric?"

Cedric felt his mannerly expression falter; condemning how he paled and let his eyes draw over the face of his Prince's. Hesitant and mistrustful, but entirely caught off guard by this boy's mannerism. Cedric diverted his gaze, bowing his head, "Yes, majesty."

Shadows and light flickered as Prince Phobos moved on, through the door. His snicker scorched and branded Lord Cedric.

**...**

Will's teeth had ground over the inside of her lip until she could taste blood. At which point she had began gnawing at her cheek instead; staring down at an indecipherable message and murmuring to herself. "_'Find x'_..."

She looked up as Taranee Cook slumped into the chair opposite her, pushing her lunch-tray onto the table without a word. The girl's eyes nervously flashed to Will and Will raised an eyebrow, taking a glance at the trio of girls gawking at Taranee. A smile longed to materialize on her pale lips, but Will bit down on it. She ran a hand through her unruly cherry hair; their eyes dead set on one another.

Will averted her eyes back to her homework, a smile growing as she felt Taranee grinning at her monologue, "There's x, right there. So if I just circle that..."

Will lazily circled each written 'x' on the page, smiling bluntly. Taranee grinned, "Would you like a hand with your homework?"

"What do you mean, I'm done!"


	16. The Challenge of Phobos (Interlude)

The uncharted playground was fragrant with life from one day to the next, though the Whispers could come as they pleased. They stirred happily in it's own tranquil solitude for the most part; their serene state was captivating as they unconditionally coexisted, in an eternal contentment of equanimity. The Prince Phobos did not smile.

Their debilitated, feeble forms lay crudely in his garden, pulling one another close. They had disturbed his Whispers' peace. With the faint effort of his fingertip brushing his thumb, the bolts of their shackles clacked open. Phobos' resolute gaze remained on the man who looked up defiantly at the someone else was present. The Whispers stood watchfully, while the Prince could feel their distress. He watched the male, Alborn, process whether or not to conclude that Phobos was the prince. "What's this supposed to be; _utopia?_"

Prince Phobos grinned, amused. "It was merely intended to be my conservatory, though you may take it imagery as you please."

The man stood. "Phobos."

Prince Phobos's careful eyes studied the warped burns over the Meridian guard. The woman had not moved, but remained, shaking. His Whispers seemed uncertain of the creatures; hesitant doubtful. "A very amiable trick; that protected her from the flames."

Alborn was hard, but engaging. "In Meridian, the ability to coerce the world's natural alchemy is birth-given. But you would know that."

Phobos quirked an easy brow, his expression something between intrigued and cynical, "Would I?"

The male seemed stunned, then and the Whispers hissed intelligible curses of insults at their gardens' pollutant. His being was not something they were fond of. "Don't tell me you've never stepped outside."

Prince Phobos lips pursed, his eyes becoming sharp as he looked dead into the eyes of his sister's captors. "The palace is my home. _Our _home, of which we should reside in."

Alborn's lip curled in disgust and Prince Phobos perpendingly considered the man's haughty nature. "And what kind of life would she have lived without sunlight?"

Phobos' face became pitiless and flat. "Light is our birthright."

"And where is it now?"

Prince Phobos paused, watching the man raise his face assumingly. Assuming he had won the battle. But Phobos met his eyes assertively; cordial even to these traitors. "She is downstairs."

Alborn's face fell before he took forward to strike the Prince. Phobos tilted his head slightly, deliberating before he turned away from them, raising his voice so that someone would hear him.

"Take them to Daltar."


	17. Forces of Change

It had become apparent to Caleb that the bleak decay of wildlife that occurred as time rolled on toward winter -_ on Earth _- was something widely celebrated. It had seemed strange and foreign to him, though admittedly he found this world's period of death to be an entirely different experience. When he made his was through the cool crisp air; gazing thoughtfully into the white mist of his own warm breath, feathery snow droplets fell peacefully around him. On the metaworld, the land became chilled and bitter. The dark skies became black for winter's entirety some years; winter was an isolating place of numb bodies fighting for soley for their own survival. Frigid ice and desolate, throat-cutting air. In no way did Heatherfield's powder-white sky reflect Meridian: only itself; in frosted, hazy windows that were lined from the inside with sparkling displays to encourage the season's motions. "Hay Lin is predisposed to the hospital today."

Cornelia's glacial blue eyes looked up at him as Caleb nodded. Her grandmother was sickly and he had come to understand loosely that as well as the dead, it was custom here to show respects to those who were still taken in poor health. He hadn't specified he would be coming today anyway. It was an amicable characteristic of Earth's heightened social standard for senseless kindness. He supposed that the metaworld may have once also had the luxury of such frivolous commemoration unto the ill-fated. "Will we go without her?"

In truth he had been escaping Meridian today, and couldn't fathom when he'd become so adjusted to seeking the comfort of Earth's menial interlude in his schedule. He doubted he'd have much resistance in fighting her if she declined him. In heavy, restrictive clothes that they had supplied him to blend better in their Earth-world, the more often that he came; Caleb found himself becoming stronger; larger; possibly for the first time understanding the coin of phrase 'well fed'. And he had not been the first to notice, with Cornelia even eying his rapid increase in size, usually quick to leave as though uncomfortable - perhaps with the realization that he and the metaworld were starving. "We said we'd wait."

With that Cornelia left his side, scooping a mug in her graceful fingers. She was by far the easiest Guardian to practice. She was obedient and powerful. Cornelia's control over her element was unfathomable to him. Taranee, the quietest of them, refused to partake at all, though Cornelia muttered consistently that it was Will's doing. As people filtered in and out, he'd noticed the violent red colour towards the far end of the restaurant. Caleb wanted to have Hay Lin experience herself with his archers and their arrows. But the Guardians were novices and Caleb neither wanted the rebellion to become lazy or disheartened by them. Irma Lair had the power, and more command over her alchemy than Cornelia, but did not possess the attention span for training. The sociable child smiled fondly, pushing a mug of murky brown into his coarse hands, commenting, "Winter is a time when bed is a luxury ripped from you every morning until the school closes, and hot chocolate becomes a drug to us all. You'll love it."

Caleb raised an eyebrow skeptically, though he knew she wasn't serious; his eyes scoping the _'Silver Dragon' _which was merely named that way to imply cultural association. "I mustn't have slept in my bed for over three months now..."

"Yikes."

Besides his lack of punctual desire, the quiet eating-place before him had a tranquil ambience that somewhat made him feel unnatural at first, but over visits it had become soothing and comfortable. As people filtered in and out he'd noticed with a bemused grin that she found the place more harmonious than most. Caleb wired between the unconcerned diners, crouching at her table with an engaged smile creeping across his features. He studied the girl's celestial nose, watching it twitch slightly as her lips fumbled silently over unconscious words. A stroke of saliva glistening down her slender chin. "What's she doing here?"

"Our best bet..." Caleb propped his elbows on the edge of her table, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them. She was slumped over the red and gold embroidered tablecloth and had left a circle of drool on her pillow-come backpack. Irma stood to his left, tilting her head as she considered Will. "From her unconsciousness, I'd presume _homework_."

He squint slightly, itching of all of her unruly, careless red hairs to pull one single scarlet strand from between her endowed, murmuring lips. Caleb shifted slightly, as Irma reached into the center of her protectively curled arm; skillfully extracting a single, uncrumpled sheet of paper.

"Oh look at that, The Civil War."

"Put it back..mnf, I'm working." Caleb startled at her faint voice, though her eyes remained shut and she didn't move; not to wipe her mouth. Her ferocious, firy carmine mess of hair was the only part of her to have shifted any more than before; a lock dancing recklessly on the sheer breath of her words. She frowned and blew it and Caleb smirked at the thought of it tickling her fair skin.

"And what a fine job you're doing, Will, but Cornelia's getting worried that Caleb might not come back with your scent here."

Her watery, russet eyes slowly came to then; opening then closing again a few times. Caleb had stepped back onto his feet, hoping she hadn't seen him, but the girl's eyes dubiously slit her attention to him. She shifted in her chair, sitting up and in one sloppy movement wiped her mouth, eye and pushed back her indecipherable -_ except for it's insistence on falling over her face_ - fringe. "Isn't my mom here yet, should I wait?"

"Susan?" Caleb raised an eyebrow at Irma's tone of humoured aback. "Wilhelmina, it's been four hours and your mom hasn't been in... I think it's safe to say she isn't turning up!"

"_FOUR_..whAt!?" Caleb stepped back as she shot into a rigid, unnatural posture. He hadn't seen her before like this; she was animate and clumsy. It was perhaps the first he had heard of _'Wilhelmina' _and his mind clung to the name. Perhaps she was raised like a woman, just stubbornly resenting the fact out of her own characteristic. She'd been quick to return from her peaceful, forlorn self. "Bloody- She shouldn't be allowed to have a child! I could have starved, or drowned! For all she knew, and she never even-!"

Will stopped then, pulling her backpack open and retrieving something they all had and he didn't recognise. It was some form of communication. Irma leant an easy hand on the corner of the table, "How many times did she call you, hm?"

"I will hurt you."

* * *

Winter had been cunning in it's deceitful return. In one, inaudible sweep; quilting the now hazily etched lines of Heatherfield under a frosted white-out. The longer that Hay Lin stared from the plastic, snow-coated windowpane, the less that she would see and remain certain of. Shadows in the pristine, white mist. Winter was a place of quiet reflection and rest for nature. Or so her grandmother said, laying submissively in a hospital bed that was not nearly as comfortable for her as her own. So why did Hay Lin only see death and pain? The soft gail wept mournfully in the relaxed storm. In all of her life, Hay Lin had felt open and at ease enough with herself to not hide her emotions. But, _staring out at a placid world_, she bitterly found herself refusing to cry in front of her father. Her eyes only swam painfully, "Hay Lin, we should eat while your grandmother is sleeping."

"No. Thank you." Her voice was distant and flat and Hay Lin stubbornly let her fingers fly to the ice cold window - she seethed at the sting of the frozen glass. She knew it wasn't her father's fault. She knew from the air and what words the wind carried her: Hay Lin would be the last left in denial. She breathed in the dank, humid air blowing up at her from the radiator. "I'm not hungry."

"I'm famished." Hay Lin's drooping, melancholy eyes flew open as she turned to the small, frail remains of her grandmother. A whisp of a smile graced the ancient woman's secretive lips. Yan Lin's eyes became slits as they opened; a minute movement that made her face's every crease fold and deepen. Hay Lin thought it made her look wiser than she was. Yan Lin had said that to her once, "My Hay Lin, you cannot disrespect your father that way."

Hay Lin drooped again; weightily slumping across the room to perch carefully on the corner of her grandmother's new bed. Hay Lin hated this bed. A smirk twitched over the young girl's lips as she forcibly pouted, "All the other girls do it!"

"Ay!" Hay Lin smiled widely at Yan Lin's warning look, laying blissfully across the end of the hard bed, as the elderly woman weakly raised her head, "Looks like it's you and me, kid."

"Can't I stay with you, Grandma?" Hay Lin spoke, thoughtful. It was how she had grown up; her and her grandmother. "Sometimes I don't even want to stay with mom and dad."

"You're thirteen."

Hay Lin closed her eyes tightly, willing the magic upon herself. Caleb told her to control her element. Yan Lin expressed that she must guide it; asking it to politely assist her as she needed it to. She found that she had the ability to do both. Hay Lin's eyes opened to catch the sight as the window creaked open; a stream of woolen snowflakes dancing toward and around her.

Yan Lin's eyes followed the performing frost as it retreated out of the window once more. "Did you ask it, or force it?"

Hay Lin smiled, bubbling, "I begged, Grandma! Like this: please, please, please, _please_, can I stay with you!?"

"Hay Lin, I have something very important to tell you." Hay Lin's childish grin subsided, curiously, as her Grandmother pushed herself to sit. Hay Lin was quick to crawl across the hospital bed - tenderly grasping her grandmother's arm as a warming gust eased the strain on the old woman's limbs. When Yan Lin was comfortably upright, Hay Lin sat, crosslegged on the bed. "But I cannot."

"Um." Hay Lin found her finger nervously dragging through her hair. In these clinical walls, she often did. From nowhere, it would seem, her grandmother's fingers gently pushed a rectangle of paper into her hands. Hay Lin bewilderedly accepted the card. "Grandma?"

"You keep this between you and me, kid?" Hay Lin frowned, reading the slanted lettering; '_The Rising Star Foundation'_. Her wide eyes searched for an explanation from Yan Lin, but a feeble knuckle merely rapped against her nose. "You and I, Hay Lin."

**...**

The season took the Netherworld in it's stony claws, discouraging the light in Elyon's exile. Hades' leathery, exposed fingers coaxing away the sunlight, leaving the world with blue-tinged lips; frozen in the obscure place's eternal nightfall. It wasn't all bad. Once one peeled away the vulnerable frost - it's bitter sting penetrating your flesh as you attempted to do so - the fighting would commence once more. The snow's obnoxious seclusion had banished the rebellion; their battlefields becoming a dead war-ground that now lay inhospitable. Their hostile actions weren't welcome on the black ice. Elyon found her solemn gaze drawn to her still silhouette; her shape overshadowing the white-wash ground below her window, before it looked out over the gardens of blackened flowers. The roses fell in perfect contrast to the pure white icing them. Oblivious to the idea that they ought to be dead. It was warm in the garden: as though a summer breeze was always passing through it, though a thick layer of snow coated the ground. "Cedric?"

Instead of words, his reply was a heavy hand rest on her shoulder. He was never not there, not during this winter. Elyon found words falling out of her grasp, ignorance washing through her at his will, and yet her mind had become something new entirely. She was no longer a little girl and he knew it. Cedric's voice was faint and silken. "Your Highness?"

"Will the light consume me?" The fasting planet had become weak in her eyes. It's bare, earthy corpse laying naked; save for the brittle crystals of cold water consuming it's surface. Sometimes it wasn't like this at all. Sometimes she felt isolated and rraw; sometimes frigidly accessible as someone planted their thoughts and opinions into her... "Is that what Phobos wan-"

Elyon turned before Cedric had time to grasp, her eyes on the Prince. The man inside her head: this man was not her brother. Elyon herself hadn't taken long, coming to terms with the fact. Maybe he should have been. Did he look more well every day, or did she look more tainted? Was it the glimpses of what he saw that did this to her? Her hair fell sleekly, with her braids now effortless twists as she had lost the motivation to tangle her fingers into the pattern each passing morning. Her flaxen tone washed out with soap bubbles. His soft smile was everything she had been given to cling to. Elyon's prince: he found everything funny. "You think I want you to die?"

"Are you training me to take the throne, Phobos?" Elyon was certain that she could almost taste the scented spices that filled her warm memories of Christmas time. When logic was irrelevant and she spent the entirety of her lifetime, _almost_, smiling.

Prince Phobos smiled his smile and his gaze fell into her. "If I wanted to force the crown upon you, I would merely let those against me win, wouldn't I?"

Elyon frowned, scrutinizing him as he considered her. Always a question, never an answer to her question. Elyon loathed that he urged her to think for herself. It made everything confusing.

"Elyon, if you don't like it here you can go home as it pleases you."

Always a question or a fact she already knew. Elyon knew she could. Lord Cedric stiffened beside her.

* * *

Will found herself paralyzed in the waterlogged mist. The cold had smothered her in it's damp presence, leaving her slim, elfin frame dripping with the moist residue of falling snow and the air itself. Her foggy breath was clearer than the figures she was caught, staring at. Will's nose streamed slightly while she stood frozen and frowning. I don't think this is a good idea, Uriah!"

Sheffield Institute was due to close for the winter holidays in two days time, at 2:30pm. There had been an incident just over a week back - with the weather and a burst pipe - setting them free for the time being, but Principle Knickerbocker would be the last person, _apparently_, not to squeeze out every educational drop from the slushy season. "You have never known how to have fun, Nigel. Lighten up already!"

Will bit her lip, scrutinizing the situation. With no further need for insight on the situation, Will could safely assume Uriah Dunn was up to no good. Will's musing was whether or not it was worth getting involved: from the little she could see, Uriah's limp, skinny form was clumsily being wedged halfway up a tree and if she was lucky the only trouble she was about to see was the repugnant boy with his footing and him falling flat-assed back on the icy ground. His cronies: _bulky _and _pea-brained_, grunted and snorted in amusement, but Will perked up to the last of the group's urgent plea, "Shutting a rodent in martin's locker isn't the brightest idea you've come up with, Uriah."

"Better than the firework..." _Bulky _mused. His military blonde hair, with close-cut sides and a messily spiked top made Will scowl, her lips twisting to one side as she wondered if his mother knew he behaved like this. The reckless mop with a chubby face probably couldn't even comprehend, _himself_, what he was up to at any moment. Uriah snarled, but it warped effortlessly into a cunning grin that Will repressed a shudder to.

"If we don't prank now, when will we?" Will's brows knit together nervously, as she took a feeble step forward; going unnoticed. Uriah was bent awkwardly across the midsection of some lower branches and she couldn't quite see if there really was an animal there. He muttered loudly and Will craned her neck - it was no use though, her petite body barely seeing him without the mist of her warm breath blocking out his image. "If only I could get my hands on the little- ha! I got-aAIEEE!"

The boys burst out laughing as Will's giganteus eyes followed the creature; watching it's miniscule body being thrown from Uriah's bitten finger, against a tree trunk.

It fell to the ground and Uriah expertly jumped after it. Will couldn't see the dormouse between the crowd of oafs, but saw Uriah raise the stick to attack, shreiking: "Why, you little!"

"**_Don't!_**" Will snarled, seeing red before she could rethink. They parted and the chilled breeze hit her face as Uriah glared. "...even think about it!"

"Ha!" Will's throat-cutting gaze shot to _Dummy, _who pointed at her, missing the daggers in her stare. "Pretty tough, this chic!"

"You think you can tell me what to do?" A lump in Will's chest shifted; revealing itself. His tone was low, like his gaze, with a dark undertone to his murmur. Uriah Dunn stepped toward her.

"Leave that dormouse alone."

Uriah's smirk repulsed her, but Will held her ground. Her gaze between his eyes on a bulging whitehead to invoke a false sense of confidence to her. He wriggled his shoulders animately, "Oooh, demanding tone! I'm trembling!"

Will pouted as the others laughed. The boy stood tall, directly before her, looking down with a malicious grin that caused her fists to clench.

"What's next?" He eyeballed her hands, then dragged his leer up her tense body. "You gonna hit me?"

"Let's just go!" Will fell back in a few steps at the over-cautious exclamation. Her surprised eyes fell on the final boy who recieved a growl from Uriah. The boy let a hand fall on his '_leader's_' shoulder, dragging him away. "Don't worry about it, Uriah! Let's just go."

Will shrugged off the tension remaining in her shoulders, staring after the boy as Uriah scuffed his hair dominantly, with a threat in his light, distant words. "You're too nice, Nigel. I wasn't gonna let her hit me! Too thoughtful!"

"Right..."

"Oh!" Will perked up with a glower as Uriah turned and painted to her with a sinister frown. As he spoke it warped into a cheshire grin. "_So _much fun playing with you!"

Will stooped to the foot of the tree, pouting at his back before she focussed on the bigger, _smaller_ victim. The rodent purred vulnerably, with stunned black eyes and a scuffle to it's movements. Will's stomach dropped, watching it's confused tremble. Tenderly she reached out a gentle hand to aid it's confused stagger, watching the dormouse tremble. It's teeth sank in like needle pricks. "HEY! I saved you! You-!"

"Need a hand?" Will jumped; her eyes falling to the black sneakers she hadn't seen coming. Then the slouchy red trousers made her grimace; they were an unmistakable colour she found revoltingly familiar. He'd come back for more.

"Thanks." Will thrust the entirety of her weight forward; slamming her fists - both clasped together in one moulded knot - down on the toe of his trainer. "I can make it on my own!"

"**Ow!**" Will's eyes widened at the unfamiliar yelp. She let her eyes shoot to the older boy's pained expression; he was staring at her defensively and had grabbed his foot from the shock. "What was that for!?"

Will backed up against the tree, filling with mortified dread. He was striking and frantically searching her, causing Will to deflate timidly. His dark eyebrows twitched expectantly and she realized she had been staring in stunned silence. Her arms flew out with her hands up. Her voice barely audible. "I'm so..._so_ sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you... I... Hnng..."

The dejected gaze became a bewildered smile, causing Will's heart to drop; his eyes only lingering on her for another moment before they were stolen by the chitter of the dormouse. She tensed as his hand instinctively outstretched as hers had, but he had clearly seen it bite her as he reached into his single-strapped backpack instead. Wil flushed when his eyes flit up to her for milliseconds at a time as a modest grin graced his lips. Will found herself distracted by the short stubble growing from his defined jaw until he spoke. Will thanked her luck that he hadn't been watching her, "A dormouse has a feisty nature, but you're no sheep yourself."

Will grinned stupidly; her cheeks growing steadily redder. "You... You're Matt, huh...?"

She already knew. Matt stared up to her, but Will looked away as he finally fished a sweater from his backpack. In an effortless scoop, the critter cheeped from within the warm cocoon of woolen material. From his coy smile, she gathered he was known well in Heatherfield. BY most girls. Not that she didn't..._already know that__. _"Depends who's asking?"

Will jumped a little as he rose to her height and well past it. She hadn't noticed him putting his bag back over his shoulder. Will swallowed.

"Oh... I know your grandfather- **_Met_** him- I-_" _Will tried to smile, but it felt as though her mouth was just not quite working. Matt Olsen blinked, his lips parted slightly, and in defeat, Will rolled her eyes at herself, lamely offering, "I'm Will! I liked you at the halloween party..."

Under her breath; Will swore. Now deeply maroon.

"I mean! I liked **_your_**_ voice_!"

"Thank you." Will sighed at his kind attempt to disguise his grin. It subsided more quickly than Will expected. "He wont return to his home now that he's ot of hibernation... A dormouse needs lots of warmth in the winter; a sweater will do just fine. It curls to sleep, and eats when it starts to feel hungry."

Will swallowed what was left of her dignity. Fully prepared to sound like an eighth grader at best. "You know a lot about animals, huh...?"

Matt quirked his brow and she nearly collapsed a lung. "My grandfather has a pet shop. But you know that...right?"

"Mnph." She couldn't find any reason left to care when he laughed at her daze. His soft brown eyes fell down the slope of her nose momentarily before she realized he was holding the dormouse out to her. "Wait! I can't take care of him! I wouldn't know-!"

"Nonsense!" Will felt the dread and embarrassment coming back to her as she stared at the creature in her hands. "You're clearly made for each other! Call me if you have any trouble."

Will's rounded, hazelnut eyes fell on the scrap of paper he held -from nowhere-up in front of her. Gingerly she accepted it; Matt raising his free'd finger in a small wave. As he smiled sideways at her and walked away, Will blinked. "Um...Bye!"

A corner of her mouth lifted. Matt Olsen turned and grinned as he took easygoing steps backwards, his gentle eyes on her.

**...**

_The flame was a sensory nightmare. Misrepresented as a hollow flicker in her eyes: reality dulled the vivid atmosphere that surrounded the unknown of the flame. Impossible to grasp, and yet painful to the touch._

That was why Caleb approached her cautiously. Taranee's dark eyes remained on the page, unstartled when he sat beside her. He'd been as patient as he could, Taranee knew, but Caleb wouldn't understand the power she was becoming practiced in if she had merely spoken to him. Taranee was novel, and Caleb wasn't sure yet what to do with her. His face was stern and as far as he knew indecipherable. He still felt he needed to do something with her. "Taranee, I need you to let me train you."

"You don't know how to train me." Her unwavering gaze followed her penmanship, tuned into his mind far better than he was. It didn't matter; Caleb was honest about his inexperience. About his troubles. But it was practise that didn't feel quite so intrusive, because Caleb would say what he wanted. Now Taranee simply already knew what he wanted to say, and the fact that it didn't interest her. She turned the page of her textbook.

"Why wont you try?"

"Why don't you care whether you've split us off from Will?" She'd already know if it had ever crossed his mind. But it hadn't. Taranee felt an irritation to his lack of guilt. He bit his frustration down, unsure if her firm gaze- which had fallen to him - would waver firm. With her eyes on his unseated, but calm exterior, Taranee put down her pen and closed her book. He wasn't unattractive, but Caleb was unrivalled. She knew as much as that people were afraid of him, but Caleb was closed and sedulous. She might never know why without revisiting the rebellion. It was why he made for good practise; practise almost worth risking boundaries. If he were to have them. Her steady match to his patience was throwing him, but Taranee was determined... He hadn't expected her to have much strength, or at least hadn't know whether to expect it. Slowly, Taranee parted her lips, "She was our leader."

"She never led you." Caleb's indignant tone affirmed how he found her absurd. Caleb stood tall while she sat; she was supposed to be roused by him; she was supposed to feel threatened. It wasn't malicious, just a show of his dominance. Taranee let her shoulders release in ease. She found herself unexpectedly surprised when his defences went up and she invisioned his mind's slamming door. He was closing off himself too. His jaw tightened with anger and, lost, Taranee's eyes became dedicated to his coarse olive skin for the answers. "She's disobedient and reckless. I have no use for someone as turbulent as Will."

_Wilhelmina._ Taranee smiled when he almost said it, realizing Will might just barely get under his skin. The thought had provoked her as he'd been toying with her name the moment he had come in. Unsure what to do with it. Just a side thought. Caleb could multitask in there almost as much as she could. "Will saved me."

"Didn't Cornelia inform you how fast Will threatened to close the portal?"

He made his way around the table then, comfortably distracted by the thought of the others upstairs, and getting out of this basement. He was a novice in this field, and Taranee found it perturbing that he didn't know how to manifest his concern for her. So until now he'd let her slack. Knowing it was a misconduct of his leadership. Taranee didn't want to let him be used, but she wanted Will: she knew Will's voice deserved to be heard. "Didn't Hay Lin tell you how much faster Will informed her about what was eventually deemed 'Cornelia's plan' of how to save me."

He bit down a smile: she knew that Hay Lin hadn't. But realization flooded into his mind of Taranee herself, and she flushed at his peculiar grin. "Can you tell me if she did?"

Caleb looked more handsome, smiling. Approachable. He'd figured out that she was reading his thoughts, and yet it was Taranee who's lips coyly curled; victorious.

"You might just be the deadliest weapon I've ever met."

**...**

Uriah Dunn trudged through the thick snow; his hands dug deep within his pockets. Nigel strode beside him, watching as their breaths matched their footsteps on the sidewalk. Uriah's eyes surveyed their surroundings dully; eager for a distraction from the lul in their afternoon schedule. The emptiness of Heatherfield surrounded them and Uriah wasn't content to put up with it's tragic serenity. "So, here's an idea-"

"Will you stop!"

It wasn't a question, but a command and Uriah snarled defiantly. He stood aggressively close to Nigel, with his eyes meeting Kurt's before the boy dared let out the laugh he was holding. Uriah's lips curled, a minute distance from Nigel's ear, as he leaned over the boy's shoulder. "Excuse me?"

But Nigel shook his head, "Can't you for once in your life not be plotting? Uriah, I am so bored of listening to your ideas - can't you just let someone else make a more informative decision?"

Uriah's lips twisted into an amused smile, "Why Nigel. I'd be honoured for you to plan our break in."

"Break- what?"

Uriah's slender arm wrapped around the boy's shoulder, turning him to face the Brown's decaying wreckage. His free hand pointed.

"In. There." Nigel's eyes bulged and Uriah snickered, "And we'd better do it soon, before the police come. I hear they're sending in private detectives."


	18. Forces of Change 2 of 2

Within Heatherfield Infirmary, the white walls -_ to those who remained there long enough _- became revealed a more jaundiced tone, as a person's eyes adjusted to the harsh yellow light. Yan Lin's fragile form lay delicately wrapped in the cheap, blue sheets provided; her feeble gaze to the wall as her sheer, slender lips remained still in a mere brush of a smile. Her peaceful grae had not yet diminished, though her elderly skin appeared translucent; hanging from her lank figure with an ashen tint. A gaunt, hollowness had become of her sunken eyelids, though the room itself appeared to harbour more plague than she did. The ailing woman's concerns were not with her own fine, off-white strands of thinning hair as it hung lamely over her shoulders and down past her crumbled bones to her waist; nor the narrow ridges to her wrists and joints that had become fairly prominent as hunger and mortal needs subsided to her. Sickness was of little concern to Yan Lin as her beliefs led her to a greater path: she held a greater knowledge of the after-life. Or so she believed wholeheartedly. She had aged graciously, with a superior contentment than those who were not ready for death. And yet.

And yet the thin, faded brows of this woman knit gently together. Her seemingly calm breaths being pushed in and from her nostrils at a calmed pace; beneath the wisp of a hint of a smile, her tense jaw clenched her teeth together. Not simply a thought: a consideration. Which, with each second, she turned to face with what might be her last breath. "Were they wrong?"

Perhaps doubt was crossing her. Many of the former guardians had passed; _three of five_, but Yan Lin considered only now if she was to meet with them again. _Candracar; beyond any heavenly realm_, held a place for her. The promise had been made to her on _Basilíade_, where _His _congregation's temple lay in tranquility. They watched over the balance of the Universe itself, devout of a life without time nor mortal boundaries, in honor of their belief. The Oracle. _And yet._ Cassidy had been the youngest of them, and Yan Lin had been faced by a fate in which the water guardian's peril alone remained, though this accusation had been made eons ago. Yan Lin was certain of Cassidy's place and felt her parched lips move almost with anticipation. Except Halinor... Kadma lived on in the life that Halinor too had chosen: free of the profits of their aurameres. Kadma - _Yan Lin heralded no doubts _- would live stubbornly in the Congregation's disapproval. Yan Lin could not be certain of Halinor's fate when she had passed. Something she had previously accepted and continued to tolerate.

Yan Lin did not succumb to the tainted whisper of Thanos.

Perhaps Yan Lin's regret was passing Hay Lin the final remnant of her generation. For fear that without guidance they might not succeed. Perhaps Yan Lin was considering if such an action might hinder her loyalty in His eyes. Though Yan Lin shook the consideration, aware that He would know that _The Rising Star Foundation_ would find the girls anyway, should it want to.

**...**

The Silver Dragon had remained quietly busy all day, which was supposed as a viable reason for it's opening, _on several occasions now_, despite the lack of managers present for the first time since it had opened. The second reason of course being that _, _Mr Chen Lin, who prided his religiously working at the restaurant without fail, was a private man that wouldn't want it to become a spreaded fact that he and his family were spending a vast quantity of their time with his passing mother. This, ironically, _along with Mr Lin's first name_, Cornelia knew due to her mother being more of a gossip than even she was. Cornelia's lips pressed firmly together in a fine line, as an attempt to restrict her smile at the thought of how the woman had looked - _of how Lillian had looked, with her platinum eyebrows raised so high that they became curtained by her croppy, blonde fringe _- when Cornelia had barked for her mother on the phone to shut up about it then. "Hay Lin! We wait-ed..."

Cornelia glanced furtively to Irma's dejected features, shrouded in puzzlement as the brunette's mouth hung in mid-sentence and her deep blue eyes followed the hunched figure storming past her. Cornelia sent Hay Lin a kind smile, but knew that Hay Lin wasn't _sad _as such. A pessimistic hand fell onto Hay Lin's shoulder, and Cornelia felt a pang of sympathy for both of the Lins'. Mr Lin was authoritative and stern, but the man looked fatigued as Hay Lin pushed her bottom lip from her face in a deep scowl, with her arms crossed animatedly over her slender chest. "Hay Lin..."

The rest of the man's words were lost to Cornelia, as he spoke an elegant ribbon of the family's native language to his daughter softly over her shoulder. Hay Lin glowered into the distance, and Cornelia swallowed because no one had anticipated the girl's distress to be released in petulance. "No, I'm not."

Mrs Lin had lightly bypassed the ordeal happening within the open restaurant. Not that Hay Lin had noticed, turning her head pointedly away from her father. The man grimaced, and Cornelia thanked Irma for remaining silent until Mr Lin had exit towards the building's place of residence. "What's up Hay Lin? Everything okay with Grandma?"

Cornelia rolled her eyes at that, though Hay Lin's pout lifted immediately as she flicked a business card into her thumb and forefinger's grip expertly. Hay Lin's twinkling beam came over her and yet the air seemed to stagnate to Cornelia, "Grandma's great, she gave me a secr-"

Cornelia snorted as the card disappeared as quickly as it had been produced. Hay Lin's quirky grin warping guiltily, and her eyes darting to Caleb who - _having already been unhappily regarded by the Lins as a now frequent visitor _- stepped cautiously out into the light bustle of the restaurant. He'd stayed much longer than Cornelia - _than anyone _- had expected, despite her declining his proposal of practice. Taranee, Cornelia assumed, could easily still be bent over her studies in the basement, but Hay Lin had somehow lit up more at the sight of the _Meridian_.

"Caleb!" Caleb didn't smile a lot, but graced Hay Lin with a warm trace of felicity. His expression was met by her bounding happily and clashing against him. "Caleb, you're here!"

"I am." Cornelia looked away as he, _somewhat wearily_, picked Hay Lin from his torso. She smirked as the entire event bypassed him, though with Irma he was prone to becoming more natural... Less bemused. Cornelia prided herself for having become his instinctual connection; Taranee was shy and hadn't said much to him, nor had she joined in with Training. Cornelia was glad to have her around though, and the girl was just adjusting. Taranee was studious, and listened carefully to everything uttered by Caleb. She just wasn't ready. Cornelia perked, turning to Caleb and he became practically formal, "How is your grandmother?"

**...**

Within Heatherfield Infirmary, the white walls -_ to those who remained there long enough _- became revealed a more jaundiced tone, as a person's eyes adjusted to the harsh yellow light. Yan Lin's fragile form lay delicately wrapped in the cheap, blue sheets provided; her feeble gaze to the wall as her sheer, slender lips remained still in a mere brush of a smile. Her peaceful grae had not yet diminished, though her elderly skin appeared translucent; hanging from her lank figure with an ashen tint. A gaunt, hollowness had become of her sunken eyelids, though the room itself appeared to harbour more plague than she did. The ailing woman's concerns were not with her own fine, off-white strands of thinning hair as it hung lamely over her shoulders and down past her crumbled bones to her waist; nor the narrow ridges to her wrists and joints that had become fairly prominent as hunger and mortal needs subsided to her. Sickness was of little concern to Yan Lin as her beliefs led her to a greater path: she held a greater knowledge of the after-life. Or so she believed wholeheartedly. She had aged graciously, with a superior contentment than those who were not ready for death. And yet.

And yet the thin, faded brows of this woman knit gently together. Her seemingly calm breaths being pushed in and from her nostrils at a calmed pace; beneath the wisp of a hint of a smile, her tense jaw clenched her teeth together. Not simply a thought: a consideration. Which, with each second, she turned to face with what might be her last breath. "Were they wrong?"

Perhaps doubt was crossing her. Many of the former guardians had passed; _three of five_, but Yan Lin considered only now if she was to meet with them again. _Candracar; beyond any heavenly realm_, held a place for her. The promise had been made to her on _Basilíade_, where _His _congregation's temple lay in tranquility. They watched over the balance of the Universe itself, devout of a life without time nor mortal boundaries, in honor of their belief. The Oracle. _And yet._ Cassidy had been the youngest of them, and Yan Lin had been faced by a fate in which the water guardian's peril alone remained, though this accusation had been made eons ago. Yan Lin was certain of Cassidy's place and felt her parched lips move almost with anticipation. Except Halinor... Kadma lived on in the life that Halinor too had chosen: free of the profits of their aurameres. Kadma - _Yan Lin heralded no doubts _- would live stubbornly in the Congregation's disapproval. Yan Lin could not be certain of Halinor's fate when she had passed. Something she had previously accepted and continued to tolerate.

Yan Lin did not succumb to the tainted whisper of Thanos.

Perhaps Yan Lin's regret was passing Hay Lin the final remnant of her generation. For fear that without guidance they might not succeed. Perhaps Yan Lin was considering if such an action might hinder her loyalty in His eyes. Though Yan Lin shook the consideration, aware that He would know that _The Rising Star Foundation_ would find the girls anyway, should it want to.

**...**

The Silver Dragon had remained quietly busy all day, which was supposed as a viable reason for it's opening, _on several occasions now_, despite the lack of managers present for the first time since it had opened. The second reason of course being that _, _Mr Chen Lin, who prided his religiously working at the restaurant without fail, was a private man that wouldn't want it to become a spreaded fact that he and his family were spending a vast quantity of their time with his passing mother. This, ironically, _along with Mr Lin's first name_, Cornelia knew due to her mother being more of a gossip than even she was. Cornelia's lips pressed firmly together in a fine line, as an attempt to restrict her smile at the thought of how the woman had looked - _of how Lillian had looked, with her platinum eyebrows raised so high that they became curtained by her croppy, blonde fringe _- when Cornelia had barked for her mother on the phone to shut up about it then. "Hay Lin! We wait-ed..."

Cornelia glanced furtively to Irma's dejected features, shrouded in puzzlement as the brunette's mouth hung in mid-sentence and her deep blue eyes followed the hunched figure storming past her. Cornelia sent Hay Lin a kind smile, but knew that Hay Lin wasn't _sad _as such. A pessimistic hand fell onto Hay Lin's shoulder, and Cornelia felt a pang of sympathy for both of the Lins'. Mr Lin was authoritative and stern, but the man looked fatigued as Hay Lin pushed her bottom lip from her face in a deep scowl, with her arms crossed animatedly over her slender chest. "Hay Lin..."

The rest of the man's words were lost to Cornelia, as he spoke an elegant ribbon of the family's native language to his daughter softly over her shoulder. Hay Lin glowered into the distance, and Cornelia swallowed because no one had anticipated the girl's distress to be released in petulance. "No, I'm not."

Mrs Lin had lightly bypassed the ordeal happening within the open restaurant. Not that Hay Lin had noticed, turning her head pointedly away from her father. The man grimaced, and Cornelia thanked Irma for remaining silent until Mr Lin had exit towards the building's place of residence. "What's up Hay Lin? Everything okay with Grandma?"

Cornelia rolled her eyes at that, though Hay Lin's pout lifted immediately as she flicked a business card into her thumb and forefinger's grip expertly. Hay Lin's twinkling beam came over her and yet the air seemed to stagnate to Cornelia, "Grandma's great, she gave me a secr-"

Cornelia snorted as the card disappeared as quickly as it had been produced. Hay Lin's quirky grin warping guiltily, and her eyes darting to Caleb who - _having already been unhappily regarded by the Lins as a now frequent visitor _- stepped cautiously out into the light bustle of the restaurant. He'd stayed much longer than Cornelia - _than anyone _- had expected, despite her declining his proposal of practice. Taranee, Cornelia assumed, could easily still be bent over her studies in the basement, but Hay Lin had somehow lit up more at the sight of the _Meridian_.

"Caleb!" Caleb didn't smile a lot, but graced Hay Lin with a warm trace of felicity. His expression was met by her bounding happily and clashing against him. "Caleb, you're here!"

"I am." Cornelia looked away as he, _somewhat wearily_, picked Hay Lin from his torso. She smirked as the entire event bypassed him, though with Irma he was prone to becoming more natural... Less bemused. Cornelia prided herself for having become his instinctual connection; Taranee was shy and hadn't said much to him, nor had she joined in with Training. Cornelia was glad to have her around though, and the girl was just adjusting. Taranee was studious, and listened carefully to everything uttered by Caleb. She just wasn't ready. Cornelia perked, turning to Caleb and he became practically formal, "How is your grandmother?"

**...**

Will stumbled into her own apartment, pressing the ball of thick woolen jumper against herself. There was no denying that Will looked out of place in these halls, despite the torn and mismatched cardboard that still managed to litter the redwood floor every time the teen was further encouraged to tidy her bedroom for the rights of freedom. Dark slush trailed along the floor, following Will's footsteps as she trudged past the plush doormat; rendering it useless. Susan Vandom was an accomplished working parent, who's pristine residence rarely ceased in raising eyebrows: her home being a proud place of comfort and style. Susan pursed her lips as the door slammed forcefully into the frame, causing the porcelain bowl for keys to tremor precariously. Susan eyed the sleety bootprint on her maroon door, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow as she left the couch.

"Aren't we forgetting something?" It was often laughable; the clumsy nature in which her daughter moved, but Susan's expression didn't change as she climbed hazardously from her green wellingtons, whilst simultaneously abandoning her navy coat to the floor. The girl's scowl directed to the duffel coat rather than Susan, causing a wave of impatience in the woman. "Will! A greeting would be nice!"

Susan scooped a thick wave behind her ears, brushing past her bronze earrings. Wide chestnut orbs flew to her guiltily, before the redhead frowned, pushing out be lower lip and throwing her hand out, "And you are? Haven't we met before?"

"Will..." Susan felt an undetectable heat to her face - _she wasn't prone to flushing as Will _- and a figure fidgeted uncomfortably beside her, causing her daughter's eyes to flash to Professor Dean Collins. The man having surprised her at the door with a personal visit to discuss Will's...absences. During certain classes more than others, according to the _Principle, _Mrs Knickerbocker. Not that her daughter would have known as much as that, considering she had a tendency to not show up on the two recent occasions she'd been directed to the Principle's office after the final bell. "_Where_ have you been?"

"Collins." Susan took a deep breath as the gentleman laughed uneasily, unlikely to know how to respond to Will's glower. The girl held little remorse for her impolite attitudes, and Susan discarded the passing thought that_she _had any connection to Will's blunt reception of people. "I should have known **_you _**would betray me, you old... Mom..."

Anger wilted to guilt. Susan pushed her thumb and index finger tips across her brows, biting the inside of her lower lip as Will squirmed beneath her gaze, changing her hold on the sweater. A wall clock ticked in the background, and Susan realized that with the little she had seen recently of her daughter; a minute or so had already been more than a big enough dose for the evening. "I asked you a question, Will!"

"I was doing my **_homework_**, mom!" Susan shot the girl a glare as her exhausted tone was mirrored exactly. Will crouched over her bag, facing away from them now and Susan Vandom felt a compulsory need to shoot the man an apologetic look, though he smiled and raised his eyebrows in a way to remind her that he did in fact understand... on the occasions that Will turned up to class. Susan's attention was caught by Will's standing, the large, resounding _RRrip _of paper and a curse word she had certainly not taught her daughter. Susan loudly forced herself to blow out the warm air in her lungs as Will went through the stages. Her face faltering. Her eyes shining with dread. The corners of her mouth lifting apologetically. And finally the glare that became of Wilhelmina Vandom's features as she blamed Susan for her clumsiness.

Susan pushed her chest out, with her arms still crossed over it rigidly. She was tired of waiting for Will to confess, "_Skipping school?_"

And there it was. "I'm no- Well, I di- I onl- RRrrrrggGhh! **Fine!**"

Susan bit her lip as Will slung her backpack over her shoulder, and did her best to stomp: agitating the redhead more as her socks denied her the chaotic noise she seemed insistent on surrounding herself with. She forced calm upon herself when the girl's bedroom door slammed, heavily enough that the porcelain bowl and decor of the living area reacted. Susan sat, pulling her black coffee onto her lap with no intention on drinking it yet. "I'm sorry."

Dean Collins only smiled supportively though, sipping his own coffee and rolling his eyes as he looked off into the direction of the door, "You know, Will is a wonderful girl..."

Susan grinned as he murmured the words.

**...**

With her final rush of anger thrown into the doorframe, Will let her scrawny body lean and slide against her door weightily; her eyes falling to the folds of her open backpack as she pulled them away to reveal a peaceful creature. With envious eyes, Will let her gaze fall upon the dormouse, tucked into the warm embrace of Matt Olsen's sweater as it slept on, unaware of the crumbling world around her. Will frowned up at the jumble of loose frogs and clothes that littered her room, feeling compelled by the cosy animal to hold her bag tight against herself; her chin resting on it so that her nose almost brushed her protected stray's fuzzy, brown coat. "So... I guess I'm meant to name you, huh?"

Will frowned, uncertainly at the critter, which made a soothing purr as it's teeth ground unconsciously in the now silent apartment. It was usually this way, though Will was appreciative for the company, as within minutes she forgot her mother was even there. The days had seemed to grow longer, as the night came earlier and Will considered not having to go to school at all for a while. There hadn't been much, going on since Taranee had returned. Sometimes the girls would wave or talk briefly. Taranee had attempted to suggest tutoring Will, but Will didn't have the patience for it. Cornelia laughed from the other side of classrooms, bubbling with confidence as people learned to forget that the Brown family had been finally decided as missing. Mrs Rudolph had had investigators interrupting the lesson. Will's eyebrows sunk deeper into the bridge of her nose as she slouched a little closer to the floor.

"What are we gonna do, little dormouse?" Will's somber gaze lifted as rain that she had barely been aware of trickling softly outside, began falling past her window in torrents; presumably clearing Heatherfield of snow until it fell again. Will was quietly aware that sometimes people just disappeared without a trace. But allowing her to leave open the tear between "_Meridian_" and a shut-down carnival of some sorts, was the underlying thought that that was exactly what she could have concluded about Taranee. Sometimes people just disappeared without a trace. Will wasn't sure how long it would take people to notice her absence in Heatherfield. "What are we gonna do?"


	19. Ghosts of Elyon

Her awareness of Heather field heightened, while the iceage surrounding them lured Elyon's mind to wander. It seemed to do little else, between her studies and what little she didn't endure of nightfall. Elyon wasn't beyond comprehending Meridian, for it's pitiful self. Even on the day she senselessly chose it above rational thought. But back then the vacant expression of the Meridian planes had seemed like so much more to her. The mourning skies and dismal land had offered her something that Elyon simply hadn't been able to refuse; dangling with slender, elegant fingers the empty desire that had plagues her short lifetime. And now, in solitary confinement amongst the silver and hemimorphite jewels that hung idly over her flaxen-turning-white, pressing cold onto her forehead. Elyon had _the truth_.

Something to mull over - _that caused a ghost of a hint of a hollow smile across her lips_ - as she gazed from her palace to the gloom of her empire. The truth. It was all a dull humour that she had consumed herself with to pass the time, and Phobos had known it all along, with the same faint grin she wiped from her face now: the truth was that she was better not knowing. It turned out that curiosity did kill the cat after all. "I can't stop thinking of home, Phobos."

He didn't care. She didn't know why he'd brought her here, when he didn't seem as though he'd ever wanted her at all. The illusions of authority and of belonging had both quickly faded, because Elyon could do as she pleased for however long as he didn't care _what _it was she was dong. Elyon's humility had fled her, because over time she'd realized that nobody cared what she did to embarrass herself.

Phobos smiled in a way which unsettled her. It made her uncomfortable; being aware of his deep, calming breaths. His eyes made her stir, unsure of the truth - though she knew he always spoke it. When he was mute, Elyon was restless for him to speak. When he spoke however...

Elyon had stared down at the floor, for a moment, anticipating something that never came. She lingered, almost hoping before she turned her gaze to the empty room. He had been here. Elyon was certain. Lamely, she mumbled, "Alright... I'll see you around then..."

The words sounded foolish even to herself. Humility seemed to be her default here. Besides, it was only biology that stood between them. She had failed to consider that when she'd fled the Earth. She had admitted to Miranda that they could kill the abductors for all she cared... Her mother...

**...**

Biology was one of Will Vandom's more favoured classes, or at least, this Cornelia assumed by the fact that the red head _usually_ showed up. In fact, until today, Will hadn't missed a lesson. Or so Alchemy had marked; not that Cornelia had really noticed. But since it had been pointed out, the fact had become somehow prominent to her. Perhaps it was her uninclined attitude to dissection, but Cornelia turned from her anonymous organ in disgust, and cloudless blue eyes set on the empty desk towards the back of the classroom, "Hey, Al?"

"This is so disgusting!" Alchemy grinned deviously, holding a scalpel at arms length. Cornelia frowned though, and the girl abandoned her work. "What? Not into guts?"

"You couldn't pay me." Taranee valued school more than anything, so it surprised Cornelia to see the dark girl blanch and wordlessly excuse Will for her absences. It was hard to argue against her occasional presence though, when Caleb simply mused that he was certain that Will ought to have closed the most recent portal by now. The thought bothered Cornelia, and she eyed the empty chair again.

**...**

Mrs Rudolph's classroom was to be known as a hostile, well-lit room best avoided by her students. Despite her fourteen years teaching in the Institute, the carpet of her class remained clearly navy blue, and had an unfamiliar crisp texture to walk on. It wasn't a pleasant room, with yellowish walls that had probably looked no less jaundiced when fresh painted long ago. On one side, the wall that ran along a corridor on the other side has been neatly decorated over time with posters reflecting Mrs Rudolph's specialized subject, where the opposing wall had been built with boxy, squared off windows that pristinely displayed the school's central gardens, but refused, despite the handles, to ever open, even a crack. It could be assumed, by Irma, that the windows in fact had never been opened; the stifling air having never had outgrown the well-sanitized '_new classroom_' scent, which had merely acclimated somehow with the dust over the years to create the room's poisonous environment. Irma had come to wonder if the funereal seriousness was a Meridian trait. The over-tidy filing of her classmates indistinct, systemized columns couldn't entice the brunette to forget who she was dealing with. Especially when it was beginning to remind her so of how Caleb attempted to regulate them - _though, unlike Rudolph's raised brow, Caleb's failed attempts simply resulted in tired sighs and grinning_.

Mrs Rudolph's rounded figure stood, talking absently to the great green chalkboard at the head of the class. It's sheer size covered most of the top wall, with their stocky lecturer unable to reach more than half of it. Even then, behind her net desk, Irma theorized that the woman had had a platform raised for her. To either side of the board and behind them, Irma grimaced at the countless, categorized math textbooks. Mrs Rudolph's, along with most of the classroom's desks, had retained their methodical and precise form, despite their time in the impriso- _establishment_. With this in mind, Irma wondered if Mrs Rudolph had expected Hay Lin and herself to be magical. Below them the carpet had grown worn; a fuzzy faded blue from the repeated dragging of desks together. Irma smirked at her own desk; amongst the litter of Hay Lin's and her own swirling work, he'd noticed the untidy _'WILL' _deeply engraved into her desktop. Irma wasn't the only one bored during lessons then... "Hey do you think Mrs Rudolph knows who Caleb is?"

Hay Lin's bemused nose crinkled, though she didn't look up as she leant over; doodling on Irma's desktop rather than her own, "Why would she know Caleb?"

"Duh, I think Caleb's famous." Irma pouted at Hay Lin who raised a questioning brow, her pen never leaving the scarred wood. It was simultaneously easy and difficult to be friends with Hay Lin, who could come up with the least possibly conceivable ideas, but fail to acknowledge the ordinary as possible. "I mean, he's **_the _**rebel leader!"

"I think he flatters himself with that title..." Irma's frown deepened when Taranee rolled her eyes. Everyone knew that if they cared about keeping secrets from Will, Taranee would be classed as the double-crosser. But then, even Irma missed Will's erratic clumsiness when she wasn't around, and Caleb was disturbed that she'd left the portal open. "Surely Mrs Rudolph is more famous than Caleb?"

"Infamous!" Irma grinned, waving her hand casually, "Caleb doesn't have time to know about Elyon's secret evil babysitter."

"He has time to know us."

"What's your point?" Irma's eyes became slits as she considered Hay Lin's blank beam, but Taranee leaned from her place behind them, yanking Hay Lin's pen from her hand. Hay Lin took the opportunity to change colour. Irma turned her nose up, "Hay Lin, Caleb is training us! We're **_crucial components to overturning Phobos and reobtaining the heir to the__ Throne_**. What, I listen!"

Taranee snorted, "Caleb is _'training'_ us! You don't do anything he says!"

"Excuse me." Irma wasn't sure where Taranee's confidence had come from, but she felt suddenly very defensive, "I am getting in touch with my power."

Hay Lin chirped a laugh as Taranee shrugged and withdrew, returning to her textbooks and muttering, "I think we're all getting in touch with your power... I'm considering borrowing my brother's wetsuit."

Irma glowered, "Shouldn't you be _working_?"

"Yeah, Taranee!" Hay Lin chimed, never sure of which side to take in an argument, "Or you'll get sent to the principle's office!"

"**_Hay__ Lin._**_"_

**...**

Hay Lin's slender frame shifted uncomfortably in the judgemental chair she'd been offered upon arrival. She remained wary; nervously aware that those who frequented the sizable room were generally parents, and the more serious delinquents attending Sheffield Institute. Neither of which Hay Lin would like to like to consider herself, though the longer she spent silently waiting in the daunting office, Hay Lin was starting to account for a fair few careless demerits on her record. Hay Lin's dark eyes followed the beige coil of the phone cord guiltily; blankly deafened to her Principle's words as the solid woman's lips moved; the telephone wire's tight curls being wound around her plump fingers continuously. The awkward chair wailed under the strain of Hay Lin's slight weight, and the scrawny girl clutched the hard seat, averting her gaze to Knickerbocker's tasteless desk, rather than meeting the eyes of the large woman. Hay Lin's fingers met something undesirable. A token of Uriah's, she imagined, staring harder at the faded wood in front of her as Hay Lin flexed her hand, which felt wounded by it's contact with the dried gum. "Hay Lin."

Hay Lin blanched, grinning widely at the bulging woman whose hand lingered on the replaced handset. Her fingers flew to grasp a solid surface, but she stopped herself from again meeting the discarded chewing gum. "Principle Knickerbocker! I-"

"Hay Lin... You know, your father attended his classes here." Hay Lin lost all intention to speak as her principle's small eyes lingered on her own tenderly. A weighty hand rested on her desk as Mrs Knickerbocker walked the circumference of her desk; mesmerizing to Hay Lin as the girl wracked her brain for an explanation for the woman's somber expression. She glanced from the elderly woman to the faded, miserable desk - not sure if she wanted the answer. Hay Lin looked up in alarm when she realized her principle was still talking and Mrs Knickerbocker wilted; losing her trailing sentence... "Have you managed to spend much time with your grandmother lately?"

Hay Lin nodded with an uncertain smile. She was becoming more and more certain that she should have been listening as Knickerbocker unsteadily straightened piles of papers.

"You'll want to have your things ready. I see you brought your bag, Hay Lin. Ha..." But Hay Lin found her focus drifting again as the final bell rang. _RRrriinnNGG! Hay Lin gazed out to the schoolyard. From this room, she had a perfect view of the school gates. Hay Lin smiled as a familiar face passed the window: Chen Lin's angular form slumped under the weight of his backpack; his features a thoughtful frown as he mumbled, his words unreachable by her own ears. His studious tendency had come as a relief to his mother, whose playful tone was beyond forgetting, "I thought he might take after me!" Hay Lin frowned, sittig at her desk, letting tthe boy's image wander from her sight as she took in the other students..._

"Principle Knickerbocker?" Hay Lin spoke absently, flushing as she realized she'd cut her superior off. Hay Lin pressed on; a curiousity in her wide eyes. They lay on the plain outer wall that took up her principle's office view. "Was this always your office?"

The beady eyed woman seemed perplexed, and a hand flew anxiously to her great white beehive of brittle hair. "N-no, Hay Lin. My office used to reside to the left of the front entrance. Why do you ask?"

"Oh... I just wondered." The draught that had earlier uneased Hay Lin gently kissed her cheeks as it glided past her. She felt a distance between herself and the world as she slid from the hard chair. "I should probably get home..."

"Hay Lin! Don't forget to wait at the front gates! Your parents, Hay Lin!"

"Uh-huh..." Hay Lin smiled at the thought of a young Chen Lin frowning thoughtfully.

**...**

The fiery redhead stood, obtrusive and noticeable in the weedy outskirts of her intended destination. Will was small, but it would have made the cold stone no less daunting had she been otherwise. Immersed in the brisk winter winds and the snow-covered wasteland of Elyon Brown's overgrown garden. Apprehension led Will's thoughts to stutter, as though her mind's teeth chattered from the cold. In the fringes of the dying grasses, Will absorbed the trains of thought that had led her here, letting them debate with her conscience the matter of going inside. Will had never met Elyon. She was vaguely certain that after careful deliberation, she might know who she was, but Will was sure that despite Cornelia, Elyon had actually belonged to Taranee's year. There was a drawing, Will knew, somewhere within the walls before her. A drawing that Cornelia Hale wanted. Some fantasy of her fate that struck Will as laughable until the pieces assembled in her mind and Will realized that Caleb never met Elyon. Will had heard that -_ among other things _- Elyon had had a crush on Matt Olsen. But if not the entire of their years, then the entire Institute's female population could be accused of having such a thing in common with Elyon. Will wasn't even sure if this would make anything better between she and Cornelia.

Will's erratic brain fought on, silently, with her cardamon gaze lingering; watching the elaborate building glare bluntly back down to her. The building's intended intruder shivered morosely in the thirsty breeze slicing past her, making her pull her coat a little tighter. Her great jacket crunched at certain movements, and the scent of blood hollowly clung to her. Wil had grown accustomed to it's overfamiliarity, rather than wearing her new blue coat. A fragile hand pulled her hair back, revealing her uncertain face in time for her to blow out an unsteady breath.

Crisp snow crunched beneath her feet.

**...**

Taranee smiled wistfully as she unlocked her bike, pushing the thick layer of snow from the seat and giving it enough of a jolt for the orange frame to come into view. The sharp cold had set deep into the bars, but she found that in this winter Taranee never felt the chills. Martin Tubbs bent over his own frozen pedals, pushing his frosted glasses up the bridge of his nose as he frowned at the deep freeze that had rendered his bicycle useless. Irma pawed at the cuff of her jacket as though his hand had imprinted and burned her there, ignorant of her own abilities for a considerable amount of the time. "Guys?"

Cornelia's voice rang out uncertainly, faulting the stoic expression permanently attached to her features. Taranee lost the shy grin at the sight of the girl's frown; more aware than ever of how Cornelia worried over Elyon. When Cornelia was faced by Caleb, or some other distraction even, Elyon always dragged herself back into the blonde's mind.

"Guys, I've been thinking about Will." This was enough alone to distract Irma's nauseated fidgeting, but Taranee found herself unable to simply gape like the brunette; a resounding '_I know'_ at the back of her conscience as she pushed a string of beads from her face and studied the snow on the ground intently. "Look, we can't just leave her frittering about and closing portals as she pleases!"

"Pfft, please! Will hasn't closed any portals!" Taranee stepped back with her bicycle as Irma absentmindedly threw the words over her shoulder to Cornelia, wedging past the brunette and Martin to her own bike. Taranee's heart skipped and she stared down at the boy, who muttered to himself about his bike: his mind a world away from them. _Thankfully_. Cornelia's nimble fingers slipped her padlock into her shoulder bag and she took another moment to smooth down her thick winter skirt. Blue energy swirled through Cornelia's thoughts and Taranee shook off the aggravation by turning to Irma. "If portals opened that fast, you wouldn't be worried anyway!"

Cornelia's lips pursed and Irma's curled, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We all know who you're worried about getting shut in there."

"Elyon." The pair seemed surprised by Taranee's voice, but she was tired of hearing it. It seemed like Cornelia always needed a direction for her anger and Irma for her sarcasm. Taranee bit her lip at their uncertain stares and shrugged, turning away. She already knew what Cornelia wanted, "I'm not going, Cornelia. I have homework to get on with."

Cornelia didn't appreciate the somber joke that they had just broken up for the winter. "What? How did- Taranee?"

**...**

Irma watched the descending bike with a unenthusiastic gaze, numbly aware of what was to come next. However, she turned instead to find Cornelia staring with as much distant confusion at the empty place Taranee had fled them from. Irma's frown contorted with agitation as Martin squeezed past them, and tensed when a heavy bike wheel rolled over her frost bitten toes, "Eeek! Martin! I ought to-"

Irma stopped herself short, turning to Cornelia who's stood in her detached bubble of thought for a few weeks now. It came and went, but Irma liked to ignore it whenever she could. The air was barbed with sharp, microscopic shards of ice that slit the unassuming lungs with no choice but to breathe in the cold. Irma soaked in the frozen breeze that hung limply around them; somehow more than an average summer day, and yet there was no direction for the atmospheric mist to desert them as Taranee had.

"Irma, will you come with me?" Irma's blue eyes travelled a little hesitantly to Cornelia, who's hard look and tall composure did nothing to hide the anxious tone to Cornelia. It had only been a matter of time before Cornelia convinced Irma to do exactly what they weren't supposed to be doing, which, for someone who so frequently misbehaved was a startling realisation for Irma. Though she couldn't deny Cornelia might have spent weeks of her lifetime covering for Irma's exploits of 'the system'. "It's not like we'll go in, I just..."

"Oh yeah, well that's convincing! Not."

**...**

It was an unusual time for school to get out, but no one would be returning to the Institute until after the winter break. The clutter of Heatherfield's youth had already disappeared into the quickly dulling daylight, leaving only an echo of their presence with the litter and slushy residue leading from the proud main entrance. The uniform balance of Sheffield Institute was interrupted only by a humble breeze wandering by. Hay Lin's lenient footsteps asserted her presence as she drifted from her school halls. The melodic ring of a bell looped in the distant coils of thought that wound around Hay Lin. She dragged her hand aimlessly behind her, along the gritty walls containing the prestigious Institute. Unnoticed, her fingers had long ago become numb from grazing the coarse surface, but Hay Lin was in another place. A place where she could remain ignorant of what her parents wanted her for. Hay Lin wasn't interested in what they had to say. She had no desire to know what her father had to tell her. The threads of detachment had begun closing her willingness to be briefed any further on her grandmother's wellness. For now, Hay Lin's fingertips merely snaked their way, absent-mindedly, over the school as she entwined with the borrowed memory of her father in his youth.

Hay Lin gracefully accepted that - _as a gust of wind could bring her secrets _- the tunes carried by her element, such as the ringing of a bell, had simply revealed to her another power: the power to access certain thoughts, by hearing a certain sound to provoke the owner of those thoughts to remember... Hay Lin didn't worry _why _she could see memories, but instead decided to dwell on the memory she had seen in itself. Perhaps the wind had brought her this gift; this image, because Hay Lin realized now that she had never considered her father to once have been young. The girl trailed on, in her own thoughts and others', until she stumbled upon... A distraction. A body. _A girl_. "Elyon?"

Elyon Brown's image had caught her eye as a reflection in the window to Hay Lin's left, but when she turned, Hay Lin found Elyon's startled grey eyes looking back at her.

"Elyon!" Hay Lin remained rooted to the ground for some time, before realizing that she could move; that Elyon was backing away from her quickly. She took her chance to run before her friend got away; before Elyon was gone again. "Elyon! Wait!"

Hay Lin sucked in the icy air that she hadn't noticed to be cool until now; she fisted her frozen-numb fingers, watching with startled eyes as...

"Elyon...?" Elyon didn't simply leave, but faded through the wall surrounding Sheffield Institute. Hay Lin's black pupils darted over the bricks where her friend had been, before turning her gaze to the gates. "Elyon! I'll find you!"

She pulled her phone out as she ran to the only place she knew...

**...**

It was an easy illusion. Elyon bit her inner cheek as she scoped the height of the wall she had seemingly passed right through. A trick of the light. And an accident really; Hay Lin had surprised her, by being in the empty schoolyard. The girl's desperate voice rang out from just a wall's width away. Nearly-noiseless footfalls came next and Elyon crossed the silent road beside the school she had somehow come to miss; stepping back against the shadows of a building. Elyon found herself - _at will _- invisible to Hay Lin's frantic, searching eyes when the girl reappeared before her. "She was.. Cornelia! You need to call me as soon as you get this, okay?"

Elyon swallowed, watching the miniature girl hang up the phone; Elyon pressed her eyes shut and stepped forward. Her throat was dry and words refused to come to her, but... It didn't matter, when she opened her eyes. Hay Lin had gone. Like a cool winter chill had hit her, Elyon's lips trembled. She hadn't been seen after all. Elyon willed herself away; out of the frivolous playground's sight; out of the snow. She shook a glimmer from her eyes as she thought of everything she'd been missing.

_Elyon blinked_. Within the fraction of a second, she had travelled farther than she would ever have imagined before this winter. Teletransportation. Elyon had become more apt in learning magic, than she had ever been able to follow schoolwork. It was a calling to her, that beckoned her in amongst the darkness and mourning of Meridian. Elyon's eyes did not fall on her house forever, rather the figure who hesitantly approached it. Betrayal surging through her along with...uncertainty. Elyon didn't want to face the stranger at the door. Not that anyone who knew who lived there would expect her to.

A stubborn frown crossed her face and Elyon considered the tricks of light she had learnt to manipulate so well.

* * *

Will's trembling fingers reached weakly for the brass knob fastened to Elyon Brown's front door, but found herself wavering and her knuckle halting as it instead came to rest silently against the wooden door below her forehead. She felt as though it should be dark. Without the mid-afternoon sun glazing Heatherfield's snowy surface and warming her back within the folds of her oversized, bloodstained jacket. "We can do this."

Will concealed an inward frown.

"Right after we acknowledge that talking to ourself is a fairly bad sign... I can do this. I can-" Will's eyelids had forced themselves shut, with her expression clearly bracing itself as she grasped and turned the cool, hard metal of the doorknob. She let it swing cautiously away from her fingers as she caught the sound of the lock's click. Will's chocolate eyes fluttered open. "I can't believe I did this. _I can't believe I did this!_ Mom would be so furious."

Will swept her rouge hair from her face with both hands, wishing the grin or the terrified look in her eyes would subside as she stood listlessly in the doorway. Susan Vandom's scowl filled her mind and Will shook it off.

"That's OK though, I mean what she doesn't know won't kill her." '_You are breaking and entering!' _Will frowned, reminding herself that she wasn't technically entering anything yet- She let a single foot hit the lifeless doormat, wishing that she wasn't merely hearing her own sarcastic remark, _'Okay, **now **you're breaking and entering.'_ fill her guilt-encrusted conscience. "Oh my gosh. This would kill her."

"**_This is so__ fun!_**" A toddler's happy voice rang out and Will's shoulders met the height of her ears the blissful voice brushed the air around her, and she forced a loud breath from her lungs; trying to ignore the distant child's voice and remember she had closely passed a playpark. Will's brows knit together as she stepped forward, chanting beneath her breath.

"I, am a horrible daughter." Her foot gently brushed the blue-tinted rug and the house creaked above her. Will blanched. "I'm going back."

_"**I am never going back!**"_ The adolescent screech was unmistakable, but Will shook her head as in a second she doubted herself. It was just guilt, playing tricks on her mind. Tricks.

"I am a despicable human being." Will whimpered as the door slammed shut, without any help on her part.

**...**

The cool breath of winter had claimed Shell Beach for all that it had. Cornelia knew how her friend adored the place - more so than Elyon - but even she tugged her coat's collar a little more snugly around her neck. The salty wind was bitter and unforgiving. Ocean waves lapped against the snow-encrusted sand; the sea itself supporting the bobbing solids of icy residue as Jack Frost fought for the body of water. The beach lay still, other than the turmoil of itself. But Caleb had barely found his way the first time, with pockets full of sand, and Cornelia was certain. It was here. "Where is it?"

Irma's voice wavered in the cold, while the brunette held her crossed arms tight against her chest. Cornelia's impassive gaze wasn't a reflection of her inner thought. Slender strands of her poker-straight hair flew rogue on the raw current of wind streaming past them, as it tried desperately to push them from it's route. The pebbles that lined the outskirts of the beach were the only thing that hadn't been encased in the snow; and what might've been the very edge of a red frisbee peaking from the uneven ground. The ice was harsh to Heatherfield. The cold only encouraged the sting in Cornelia's heart at the thought of her last encounter with this beach. Elyon had spent the day beside her in the warmish glow of sunlight, whilst the others swam and laughed loudly. Cornelia bit her lip, taking in Irma's withdrawn face. The atmosphere had dropped into a sullen state around them, and Cornelia knew that things were going to have to change. It had taken time, but watching Hay Lin with her grandmother... It made it hard to be ignorant that Elyon Brown wasn't the only one fading out of Cornelia's life. Despite everything. They never seemed to talk anymore. Cornelia, as she eyed the long, placid stretch enviously; reached a point where the beach came to rocks. Perhaps Will had left it because of the inconspicuous place. She raised a hand, pointing to the cave in the beach's distance reaches, "There."

Irma's deep blue eyes matched the ocean; flowing with emotions that humbled Cornelia, being faced by the fact that Elyon had belonged to them all. Their friendship: they had all shared each other. The gale sang a somber melody that matched their states, as Irma silently nodded once and trudged forward, to which Cornelia followed.

It was neither dark nor light as they came to the mouth of the cave, but Cornelia pulled her phone from it's depths in her bag, grimacing at the missed call and message on her screen. She would listen to it later. Cornelia wasn't the only one finding difficulty in Hay Lin. It wasn't like her, after all, to be petulant; it was something beyond anyone berating. Whatever it was that Hay Lin needed would come next, and Cornelia lit her phone's pitiful torch-light, shining it into the cave as the pair of them stumbled in otherwise blindly. There was no shining blue energy. "Are you sure... ?"

But the question became self explanatory: deep, penetrative gnashes having had been scraped from the walls as though... Cornelia peered into the darkness, with her torch on the wall as her fingers slid over the surface of what they'd found. "Irma... I think we should go..."

Cornelia's voice echoed loudly, though she had breathed out the words in a hushed whisper. Her fingers grasped the mobile a little tighter as she quivered, considering whether curiosity was a wise investment of their safety.

"Irma...?"

"But," Cornelia pushed out a breath she didn't realise she was holding, as Irma's insecure squeak confirmed her presence. A hand hit her back and Cornelia flinched; her eyes falling to Irma and then what Irma was looking at. "But this cave just got a lot bigger..."

The darkness had intensified, but Cornelia knew she'd been too focused to notice. The walls of the cave were nearly invisible, yet somehow noticeable in that they had changed: the mouth of the cave was no longer a few strides away, revealing the foot of the beach to them in the dim afternoon sunlight. It simply curved on. "Is that..!?"

The gushing sound was prominent, and as the first waves of foamy liquid slushed around the curves of the cave, Cornelia found her chest growing tight. Irma exclaimed, with panic in her voice, "It's like we're in a real shell!"

"When did this-" The water came thicker and faster, and Cornelia winced. Yet she opened her eyes to a secure; dry feeling. Irma's outstretched hands seemed to support the bubble around them. She scanned her brain for what had happened or when... "Irma! There's a thing in the back of the-"


	20. Out of the Dark

Solemn eyes skimmed hesitantly over the visible portion of the unfulfilled building. Everything had gathered a dust, and the place lay serenely. The deserted creme walls felt empty and faded. Everything had a dead, coldness to it. Will didn't feel much like it was a home, though Will wasn't sure she knew what a home was meant to feel like. Not like this. Earnest pupils darted over the idle, mismatched objects that resided in the hallway; sunlight shyly lay in streaks across the wall and floor, flooding from the first open door to Will's right side. Despite the thin dust dancing like snowfall, the place was sterile and tidy. Perhaps it was what Will knew but it had seemed like a staged place. It all sat a little too 'perfectly' haphazardly for Will's comfort, she could see right to the back of the house, where the hall turned off to what instinct told her might be a kitchen. A gentle wailing erupted: the long tone of despair belonging to a child.

"..Hello?" Will stepped forward instinctively, but gingerly cringed as paper scuffed against her trainer sole. Looking down, Will stepped more carefully over the piling mail. Something was wrong here. And Will wasn't sure that it was as simple as the fact that the family who lived here had already been declared as missing, or the fact that they were aliens on top of that. Will let thoughts and the repetitive sound of her mother's chiding voice slide to the back of her conscience; even Cornelia took a sharp breath and rolled her narrowed eyes in Will's imagination: _don't be stupid, Will_. But Will's stuttered voice was louder than those thoughts. "_Elyon?_"

The small girl stood before her; revealing herself to be tucked behind the top of the winding staircase. Will swallowed a thick substance posing as air at the sight she could only expect to be Elyon Brown. If they ever had met, Will didn't remember her for sure.

"Elyon?"

Elyon Brown was fare skinned, with a slightly peachy tone. Her nimble features and tilted eyes submerged in straw-like, flaxen hair that had been twirled loosely in two braids that hung behind her. Will's eyes followed the decedent, careless twirls hanging from the girl's unruly bangs and suddenly felt ill-fitted for the child's presence. Will wasn't the one who was supposed to be here, now. She was the _only one _who wasn't supposed to come across Elyon Brown. Elyon stood, stoic, with a thick jumper pulled over something much finer. Her voice was cutting, though if it weren't silent, Elyon was so quiet Will might not hear her at all, "You're trespassing... You're in my house!"

"Elyon!" Will racked her brain, seeking the words she needed to say to this girl: she needed to come up with something to console her. Except she didn't know Elyon Brown. Will faltered, catching her own dark rimmed eyes in a glass photo frame. Elyon stood, apathetically between the man and woman in the image. "Your friend... I-I know her! She said you left a drawing... Corneli-"

"**You're breaking into my house**!"

"You don't even live here!" Will caught herself off guard, reliving the words and her pleading tone as Elyon stared, watching Will for a moment before backing from the stairs and turning on her heel. "Wait! Elyon!"

Will grasped the railing and threw her body onto the staircase; she took more than one at a time as she took after Elyon Brown. A blur; a light flew past her, causing loud, echoing footsteps to fill the silent house. A screaming child, Will realized, was storming down the stairs. Elyon. And yet not. This little girl was younger; her skin slightly translucent... But the real Elyon had not been. Will's diverted gaze turned back to the top of the staircase, but a wave of dizziness overcame her. _Hnnungg..._ She moaned, clutching her head as her vision shook... But then... It almost... Will shook away the hazy pain in her head and realized the single curve of the staircase was changing, twisting into a full spiral that she raced to climb as it appeared to grow longer and thinner. "_**GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!**_"

"Elyon! Please! You have to come with me!" Will found herself at the top of the stairs at last, "Aaagh!"

Both her hands flew to either side of her head and Will grimaced at the pain of her knees hitting the solid wood beneath her as she crumbled; she pressed her eyes tightly shut, trying to block out the lights: the ghosts of Elyon around her like memories. Her head pounded and oozed an unusual throbbing sensation that usually wasn't as harsh, leading her towards the portals and Meridianites.

Will winced, not letting go of her head as she forced herself up. Will peeked woozily through her palms at the upper hallway, jumping as every door she looked to slammed, telling her she wasn't welcome here. She pushed out small, quick breaths as she stumbled forwards, to the only doorway that hadn't closed before her. Will bit her lip, taking in the star-printed bedsheets... Will frowned, looking past the bed to a desk that stood against the back wall. She found instinct summoning her to it and the loose paper covering it haphazardly. As she trudged over the dusky pink carpet, Will didn't think about her sodden boots leaving mud. Her eyes set on the old school work, but her fingers clasping absentmindedly onto a... A handle, Will realized. She turned, holding the handle tightly as she thought of Elyon Brown, somewhere amongst this clutter. Yet. She pulled the drawer open, staring down to- "_Caleb?_"

"What are you doing..."Will loudly forced the drawer shut and whirled to face her, while Elyon took in Will's form with a look of mistrust and offence. But Will raised her hands, thinking fast and willing herself to transform; trusting that Elyon wouldn't move. In the transformation she threw her head back, arching her chest forward as she felt the long, black wings growing from her very spine with their delicate teal panels. A warmth ran through her, filling her with assurance. But as reality came to her Elyon had only grown fierce, "You're one of them!? Why are you here? To fight me?"

Will blanched. She hadn't thought of that, "No! I was showing you the truth! I don't want to hide anything! You need to trust me, Elyon! You're in danger!"

"I see that..." Will bit her lip as Elyon glared at her judgmentally, knowing that this might be the only chance anyone had of trying to help her. Silence came between them for a moment, as though Elyon was waiting for something - or not sure what to do next.

The sound of a door flying open and hitting a wall shocked Will, but Elyon's wide eyes flew to her as they both spoke in perfect sync:

**"Is someone else here?"**

Elyon's eyes narrowed as Will's mind raced through images of snakes and blue creatures. The girl before her stepped forward, throwing out an accusing finger, "You've brought reinforcements to capture me?"

"What? No! Elyon!" Will panicked, striding forward to grab the girl; hoping to shake sense into her, but Elyon avoided her and backed away. "That could be someone your brother sent! That snake!"

Will found then she reached Elyon easily, because the young _'princess'_ had stilled, looking thoughtfully at Will; finally considering whether to believe her, "Cedric?"

"**ELYON!?**"

Their eyes met and Will's shock matched Elyon's, though where Will felt bewildered, Elyon showed that all she felt was suspicion and betrayal. Hay Lin's shout had filled the house and echoed around it, dispersing any hope Will had. "You liar!"

"Elyon!"

Will gasped as a light shone between them, filling her sight and her mind, causing her to flinch; letting Elyon wrench herself away. The light didn't cease until Elyon's footsteps could be heard along the hallway. A door slammed. Somewhere deep within the building Elyon was lost, but Will couldn't give up yet. Will threw herself through the doorway, searching every direction for where Elyon had gone. "Will?"

"Hay Lin!" Will stared down at the child; bundled up in a thick winter coat. Hay Lin's raven black hair was partially hidden under a layer of snow, and Will realized her hair was dancing in the lively breeze because the door had been left open. Will focused, "Hay Lin! Elyon's here! She's in the house! Did she go down the stairs?"

Hay Lin's head shook, and Will forgot herself being transformed as she waved Hay Lin from the railing, up the stairs to follow her. The message was clear enough.

Loud, prominent footsteps made the floor beneath her tremble. Leading to the only door left slightly adjar. When Will glanced to her side, Hay Lin had climbed the length of the stairs; nearly silently on account of Will's own silence. She realized that Hay Lin had been here before, "Hay Lin, what's in there?"

"Those are the stairs to the basement, I think..." Hay Lin moved forward cautiously, but Will took a quicker pace so that she could stand between the girl and whatever lay behind the door.

**...**

It hadn't taken long for the shallow pooling liquid to fill the caving walls and submerse them entirely. Not that they'd gotten wet: Cornelia gazed in awe at the pocket of air's quivering walls; unsettled by the dome of fry space that Irma seemed to be holding open in it's shape. After a moment of stubborn focus however, Irma let one hand fall, leaning comfortably on the structured water. The other of Irma's hands pressed over her own eyes and only when Irma yawned boredly did Cornelia feel secure enough to gaze around at the pearly white replacing Shell Beach's dark cave now that it was filled with water. The tall, awe-stricken blonde peered out to the darkness hidden by the long spiral corridors. Around one corner came a dim light source; from the other a black abyss. "Irma... Something is hiding back there..."

"Wow, in that case I _won't_ suggest we head for the dark, ominous shadows then. I was just about to, but seen as something is hiding in there I guess it's not such a good idea." It was barely audible, but Cornelia's eyes narrowed at Irma's dumb tone; whilst eying the scraped, uneven shards of shell wall she'd originally noticed before the waters had come, as a muted tick sounded through the liquid. The bubble that Irma had created's wall was made of exactly what endangered them, and yet there was something she felt far more worried about. Cornelia clenched her fists and a diluted energy ran through her. A gentle wash of power surged into her system, shining brightly, and yet in a single fraction of a moment it was over and Cornelia grinned confidently, before... "Cornelia! Yo-ggllggl!"

Cornelia realized her transformation had caused the bubble to burt; Irma's eyes wide and her mouth open as the cold water flooded into it. Cornelia was nodding, however, furiously at Irma's gargle, but found herself instantly chocking on the cool, heavy fluid as it swept into her gasping mouth and lungs. Cornelia paled, letting her fears consume and tense her limbs. Her fists still clenched, Cornelia could only expect the worst to happen as the... Cornelia coughed out the water for air, which was quickly surrounding her, "I-it's draining!"

Light cloaked and reflected from the sheer walls as Irma transformed. The brunette sent her a sideways smile that made Cornelia frown nervously, "Okay, this! This is gonna show you just how powerful I can be! Watch!"

Cornelia's eyes widened as the outer shell of the creamy tunnel began to splinter and crack; the water wasn't still draining, but helping to push open their prison, which creaked, though the sound was distorted by the water... Crumbling... Breaking... With a sharp _crack _it- Cornelia blinked, before cooing, "**_'This'_**is how powerful you are?"

Cornelia grinned, trying not to question the _'hows' _and _'whys'_ of having apparently been miniature sized, growing normal only now, as she smirked at the brunette currently gaping down - along with a small, green-skinned boy - at the **_miniscule_**mess of broken shell and what appeared to be glass.

"Well done! You broke a jar!"

Cornelia laughed out at their soaking states. The little boy's crest-fallen expression matched Irma's confusion, altogether reminding her of Chris, the first time he and Lillian had met. She and Irma had devised that group babysitting was better, and easier, than facing their siblings alone - especially when Hay Lin and Elyon were suddenly keen to join them - which had resulted in Lillian cruelly stomping on Chris' mud pie. Cornelia rung out her long, soppy guardian-esque hair and smiled affectionately at the unlikely child as he stuttered at them, "M-my... Did I kill it? My bug?"

Cornelia grinned. Mature and dignified described the resulting guardian forms from their transformations... until Irma turned and glared accusatively at the Meridian boy: sisterly instincts kicking in, "You can't just kill a poor, defenseless little.."

"...Irma?" Cornelia's eyes searched the sodden mess; feeling adrenaline sinking in as she whirled her body, surveying her surroundings for... a... "AAAaaaaahGGhHHh! It's huge!"

The crab lay on what appeared to be it's back, with gigantic pincers, which made Irma's claim of it being defenseless inaccurate. It's hard, reddish body was flat on the ground with six legs up in the air. A pair of longer stems protruded from the front of the crustacean's body, limply swaying in the breeze. Irma's hands flew to her hips as she squinted at the insect with fear, disgust, and concern. "Is it alive?"

"Yeah, is it?"

The boy looked disbelievingly as well as upset by the thought of it living, to which Irma growled, baring her teeth at him. Cornelia however, rolled her eyes pretending her scream hadn't happened as she pushed back her hair, nonchalantly sighing, "Who cares?"

"Not me!" The boy chimed, crossing his arms, "Not if it's dead, I don't!"

"You can't just kill anything you want!" The authoritative tone made Irma sound like her step-mother. The boy looked disgusted when Irmagrabbed his hand, glowering petulantly, before he stopped; looking dumbfounded. Irma was handing him a stick, "Well!"

"Huh?"

"Go check if it's alive." Cornelia raised a critical eyebrow, but Irma's nose was turned to the grey Meridian sky, with her arms firmly crossed. It was freezing here, Cornelia realized, while the colour drained from the green boy.

"Are you insane!" This was definitely familiar. He threw back the stick, but when she ignored it, picked it back up to wedge into the corner of her elbow, "You're the grown up!"

"I'm thirteen!"

"I'm only seven!" Cornelia smirked, as an evil glint took to the boy's eyes.

"Urgh! Fine!" Cornelia alost forgot to be anxious about what Irma was doing. The red-shelled crab had been sat motionless after all. Irma trudged forward with her stick.

**...**

Will's full lips were pressed into a glossy pout. She looked authoritative in her guardian form; though Hay Lin wondered if it might be the way that Will towered above her, with a longer, tamer, crimson bob and a strong, womanly body. Will reached out to push the brown, unpainted door, which stood at the end of the Brown's well decorated house. Hay Lin had always loved coming here, though Elyon was somehow ashamed of the beautiful assortment of antiquities and playthings alike. Nothing of Elyon's childhood had escaped the house; her mother could find anything. And yet the place was tidy; it had a relaxed air to it. "Will!"

The air was stagnant. All save for Will's fixated breath, which the young woman blew out steadily as Hay Lin's fearful eyes met a steady gaze, that almost reassured her. Almost. Will Vandom wasn't about to wait for Hay Lin to feel comfortable though, and moved to push the door open to find... It swung open slowly of it's own accord. One of Will's eyebrows quirked upwards, while the other furrowed and Hay Lin flushed at the urge to grasp for the girl. Hay Lin was scared, and Will. Will was grimacing, "Weird."

"W-Will..." Hay Lin stuttered as a breeze flew past them from within the doorway; causing their hair to spill back and blow behind them until it subsided. Will smiled, flushing a little as Hay Lin avoided her gaze, having had grasped Will's wrist nervously. Hay Lin regretted it though, because in the next moment Will was pulling her into the doorway, which surprised her by leading down. It was a spiral stair, on a simple metal frame which led down the coldest room she had ever been in. Hay Lin followed Will, staring in awe at the gorgeous curves of the wings she too could possess; with delicate black vining around tinted petals of greenish blue which occasionally twitched as though Will was aware Hay Lin was staring at them. Anything but where they were going. "Will, maybe we should- Oh! It could go on forever!"

Hay Lin's mouth fell open, staring out at the enormous room. It was their basement, but a part of it was a small ledge that must've been on level with Elyon's first floor. And then below... Will blew a loose hair from her face and Hay Lin glanced to the confused girl. "But no Elyon."

"I saw her though!" Hay Lin yelped, but she straightened; feeling self conscious and young beside Will when she was like this. Will was usually about the same height as her. Not that they ever seemed to talk anymore: Will would walk with Taranee. She'd talk to Irma. Sometimes, Will would smile shyly at Hay Lin, but Hay Lin didn't suppose Will had time for them anymore - not that they did either when Caleb came often to train them. Hay Lin drooped in her thick, bubbly coat, pouting at the distant thought of Elyon fading through the school wall. "...I _saw her_."

"I did too, Hay Lin."

**...**

Hay Lin stared up at the tall guardian with wide, tearful eyes, "You did?"

_Will_. Until Lord Cedric, Elyon had never seen her basement before. It had always stood shut behind a door; filled with the promise of spiders and cobwebs. Elyon bit her lip, considering that it had never truly been kept from her though. Prince Phobos' Seal had been etched into the floor at the centre of the basement's floor. The room was square, but pillars gave it a circular illusion; hiding the corners of the room in the shadows where she stood. It was an ability of hers; Elyon could make a dim shadow so black that no one would ever find her. The young woman gave an inadequate smile to Hay Lin's small frame, nodding briefly at her before studying the room. Elyon seethed as Will continued down the metal railings; ignoring the rickety staircase. "Maybe she didn't come in here, Hay Lin, maybe-"

"Aagh!"

"Hay Lin!" Elyon pressed herself against the dark, solid walls. Will had spun in her place as the deck level of metal holding Hay Lin up crashed loudly to the cement ground around the girl. Will started forward, but Elyon squinted darkly as the brick walls became animate.

"What's happening" Will gasped out as a wall bricked itself around her. The place seemed to have a life of it's own; cement becoming soft and hard as it wanted to, Elyon had assumed, watching Will pushing her full body weight against the spiral tower; simply by using the eyes of her home. Hay Lin pushed between two walls and Elyon found herself moving from the line of her sight.

"Will! I found-" Elyon scowled as Hay Lin's fingers grasped and ran the length of the door's edge; the door leading to the portal and all that she needed to remain a secret. A dim light seemed to catch Will's attention, but Elyon didn't notice - willing the rubbled bricks to float, then fly and smash into Hay Lin's direction. "Ungh!"

"This is my game you're playing now, Will!" Elyon's eyes darted around the room as her loud voice carried around it's corners. Neither of the girl's had turned on the main light, but it did it's best to flood in from where they'd entered, creating a dim outline of everything. Elyon stepped slowly around the room, as Will found herself again struggling with the bricks in the wall. A layer of bricks began to cement Hay Lin into a seperated section of the room; this wasn't about her old friends. This was her. This was Will.

"_HEY!_"

Lord Cedric had told her about the guardian's of the Veil: led by power-hungry narcissists, who gave the illusion of being on people's sides so as to take their Hearts and their pendants. Elyon's light. Deep within her, Elyon paused to reflect on whether it might not be so bad to take someone else's side... But this wasn't about her brother, or the people who'd brought her up anymore, "Elyon! This isn't a game! People need you here!"

"_Will!_"

"Nobody needs me!" Elyon stopped. She swallowed as the echo of her voice fell into nothingness.

"_Will!_" Will was older, but Elyon almost remembered her. She was average, and messy, and late. Will's attention had finally come to the wall concealing Hay Lin's muffled wails. "_Help! I'm stuck here!_"

* * *

The cry for help had come in a single, high-pitched scream; much as it always did. Then silence had followed for some time, as Drake pulled Aldarn towards the source of where the screaming had come from with a lazy grin at the thought of convincing the boy to upheave Caleb's schedule. It almost hadn't worked until the screaming returned, much more loudly and prominent. Drake opened his mouth to speak - his features carrying a bemused frown - before closing it again and blowing out warm air. He could recognise the guardians from a mile off, even if they'd been human and he'd been blind; due to the racket they were making. He snorted as the pair of them struggled with vines and streams of water to fight off an oversized insect. "It's the guardians!"

Aldarn seemed in awe of their tragic battle. Drake pushed a firm hand through his mussed blonde hair, smirking as he spoke loudly and watched the pair, "Relax, it's only grumpy and dumpy."

"Excuse me!? E-aAgh!" Drake grinned, watching the critter's antenna curling tightly around the brunette's curvaceous figure. They were very beautiful women, but Drake hadn't forgotten that the pair - in fact all of the guardians - were young children in disguise.

The blonde's petulant expression directed to him an eye roll, "Move along, junior!"

"And miss the fun!?" Drake shifted his position as he leaned more comfortably against a tree, grinning contendedly as he called out to them, "No, I'm going to enjoy this! Does Caleb know you're here?"

"They need help, Drake!"

Drake squinted disbelievingly to Aldarn, who'd manned his sword and looked to his peer pleadingly. Drake sighed, pushing himself from comfort against the trunk, pulling out a meek blade to fight off the bug and lulling his head to one side as he took in the soaking blonde; who seemed to shrink back as soon as the scuttling legs of the insect neared her, "Is that right, Guardian? Aldarn wants to save a damsel in distress!"

"I'm a damsel... I'm in distress..." The blonde growled; a vine grasping one of the creature's legs so that it threw the water nymph from it's grip and focussed on the Earth-mover. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead as she willed the Meridian mud to move; it was near impossible, Drake assumed, because the marshes they'd found themselves in had lives of their own. She was stubborn though, "I can handle myself!"

Drake laughed as the brown-haired guardian picked herself up, murmuring a sarcastic impression of her friend. She noticed Drake's gaze however, and rolled her eyes before smiling too-sweetly, "Have a nice day!"

"You can't move the Kaitham..." The pair seemed to halt as Drake said it, with Aldarn still phasing between himself and heroic by flushing furiously and saying nothing. The two girls turned to stare boredly at Drake, ready to ignore anything he said which made him grin more widely, "The river... And the ground here... It's the Kaitham... And it's alive..."

They're shocked expressions were priceless to him.

"But you girl's knew that..." Drake smirked, impressed even by Aldarn's timing; a single arrow flew between the girl's with perfect timing and the beast fell against the ground lifelessly. The pair seemed unable to conceive how easily it had happened, and Drake refused to admit to them that Aldarn was a very good shot. Instead he shrugged, "Come on I'll show you how to get home."

**...**

"Will... I think I want to go home now..." The wall might have been soundproof. Hay Lin could hope, because the place had fallen silent. It was dark here too; the wall that had sliced the room between her and Will had blocked out any light. Hay Lin was starting to look around the black space when she swore she heard a voice; Hay Lin wasn't used to struggling to hear now, "Will?"

_Clap_. Hay Lin sighed as she heard a hand hitting against the wall; she could hear Will's breathing quiver with apprehension as the girl maybe pressed herself to the brick obstruction. But Hay Lin felt better knowing someone was there. "She's not coming for you, Hay Lin."

The voice was male and slick and wispy.

"_Cedric! W-what are you doing here?"_ Hay Lin felt her heart beating faster as she backed away from the wall before her; that voice, it had said her name. _"Cedric, I'm fine, I-"_

_"Your brother worries for you." _Hay Lin's back hit something cold and she remembered the door she'd found. Hay Lin turned to look back, as Elyon spoke her disbelief on the matter. It was still unusual to think that her friend had a brother: that that brother was a prince. "_I worried for you._"

"_Hmm!?_"

"Nnnng! Huh!?" Hay Lin found herself trying to scrape at the door, then push herself against it, when the wall itself around her began to disintegrate around her. Hay Lin stepped back as the bricks around the frame crumbled; wincing as the large, metal door hit the ground heavily. The sound reverberated around the place and the silence loomed once more, "Cornelia!"

"That. Is how powerful I can be, Irma Lair!" And it was. Hay Lin threw herself at the girl's abdomen; hugging herself tightly against the tall, guardian form of her friend. "Hay Lin? Where- Where are we!?"

"What's this?" Irma's voice came to Hay Lin, making the girl smile brightly - her concerns fading considerably as she watched the girl comically struggle with a cracked box' lid. Hay Lin glanced up to Cornelia who clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, "Don't mother-hen me Cornelia! Help!"

Hay Lin grew interested then, as Cornelia motioned a hand and the cement grew around and broke the box entirely. The blonde seemed more concerned by the wall, "Okay... I guess I'll just get rid of-Wow!"

"Oh my gosh! The wall ate Cornelia!" Hay Lin's eyes fell on the book revealed to be within the box Irma had struggled with. It's cover seemed familiar and yet somehow foreign to her... It's spine also marked with a diamond... Formed with two triangular-typed shapes and a circle between them that held a curve that drew her hand towards it... Beckoning... Calling to her... "HAY LIN WHAT DID YOU DO!"

**...**

A wind had picked up as Irma shouted it. As though the shock of being told off had caused Hay Lin to panic; except that Irma could hear pipes bursting above them and the walls shot back revealing the shape of the room and- "Is that..!?"

Will seemed to crumble to the ground, gasping as the swarming pile of bricks that had surrounded her let her free. Their guardian forms had vanished and Irma blinked at Cornelia, "Elyon!"

"Cornelia, I meant-!" But Irma found her eyes fastened to Elyon's tearful glare, before the girl seemed to run through the wall itself. It really was her, after all. Hay Lin, beside her, squeaked and dropped the book, which somehow led to the building returning to silence... Almost... Irma frowned as a trickle of water came gushing from what seemed to be the entrance of the room. Irma motioned the floor and the redhead, with her cheek dug painfully against the cool stone floor, "Will... I meant Will."

And even Cornelia sucked in an uneasy breath, because the tomboy looked blue and motionless. "Is she..."

"Mmngf.. Ow..." Irma sighed loudly, as Will's hoarse voice filled what appeared to be some form of indoor cemetery. They all did, watching the petite girl come too slowly, pulling herself up, "Wh- Where-"

Will's eyes widened and she became instantly as alert as she could be.

"Elyon!"

"Where are we?" Irma frowned, still eying Will's perplexed expression with concern as the girl heaved in the thin air. Whether they were on Earth or Heatherfield, Irma found the place to be unrecognisable and was prepared to turn back to Dumb and Dumbfounded on Meridian.

"We're in Elyon's house! I followed her here!" Hay Lin whispered, pushing herself annoyingly close to Irma. "When I got here Will was already... Will?"

Irma frowned as Will visibly shivered. Cornelia was the one to have stepped toward the girl, crouching down to her with a frown on her face; it felt strange, that Cornelia had been a grown woman a moment ago. "What are you doing here?"

"C-aleb." Will coughed out the word, spoken in a throaty attempt of speech, "The drawing, you-"

"Will, you didn't!" Irma's eyebrows flew to her hairline then, as Cornelia offered a hand and pulled the oxygen-starved girl to her feet, "You were wrapped up in bricks! You almost died!"

"Hn.." Will squeaked, shrugging her shoulders as she pulled her sleeve over one hand, which resurfaced with a crumpled ball of paper. Irma sent a questioning look to Hay Lin, who seemed equally unsure of what was happening. They didn't have long to find out, however, as Will's face smashed forcefully into the floor.

Irma frowned as Cornelia sent her an appalled look, "Don't just stand there! Help her!"

* * *

"W-What..." Cornelia frowned down at hazel-rimmed eyes that blinked open in two watery slits. It hadn't taken long for the burst pipes to start flooding the Browns' upper floor, but now they instead crowded the relaxed, chic room with floating curtains breezily dancing in the light wind. Hay Lin squirmed nervously as she received another call from her home, but pushed the mobile under one of the many cushions and pillows that covered a seemingly handmade window seat. Taranee nervously kneeled next to Will, who'd been clumsily lain on Taranee's bed and finally showed weak signs of life as she timidly droned the words. Taranee's room was humble, most definitely, struggling to hold the group and Will, but she lived closer than anyone to Elyon, without a pair of strict Asian parents' keen interest in anything out of line. Besides, Hay Lin had chirped that she'd much rather go somewhere else before suggesting the beachside home they'd ended up in. No one else was home. Cornelia struggled to glance at Taranee pressing something to Will's forehead, handing the girl a bottle of water while the ocean's roar seeped in to the cracked open window. Hay Lin swung her legs uneasily beside her on the chair, but Cornelia knelt on the red seat cushion and peered out to the slither of water that could be seen past houses and cars. A clatter came from the floor, but Cornelia's focus was in Will, who immediately sat up and shrank; Taranee catching her, "What was that!?"

Irma, crouched on the floor, stared up guiltily to Cornelia's disapproving glared, and Taranee seemed too quick to fall over the bed, trying to fix the piece of window-seat that had fallen. Cornelia blanched, standing up as quickly as she could while the dark skinned girl wedged the piece in. "Is it safe?"

"It's fine... It's a cupboard," Taranee grimaced as she forced the wood to click back into it's perfect fit. It did and she pointedly looked to Irma, who had been at it for ages, though she said nothing and the disapproving tone to her voice was almost hidden, "My brother didn't get round to finishing. I needed more room so he-"

Taranee finished by crawling to one side and sliding the front of the seat. Hay Lin pulled her legs up in surprise and peered down to see, while Cornelia ignored Will's dazed and uncertain staring to them all. The wood moved smoothly and revealed only more of dozens of books, making Cornelia smile at Taranee's 'more room'. She'd noticed that every item of furniture was stuck in it's place, due to beechwood having had been clumsily nailed to every corner of every wall; even climbing down behind the girl's bedside table in shelves that were covered in and oozed books. It was a small library in itself. Cornelia didn't sit back on the love seat, but instead wandered in the minimal space that Taranee had, her fingers running over book spines. They didn't seem to have any order to them, which surprised Cornelia; reading fictions she knew between heavy, studious books on literature and historic books alike. "You've got everything!"

"Except space.." Taranee joked, blushing profusely in what must've been embarrassment. But it was homely, which was more than Cornelia could say for her own mess, and the room bled a spicy infusion of smells, like incense and the beach which provoked quiet even in Irma. Taranee sat on her bed, with her legs crossing under her patchwork skirt, "Will, how are you?"

"Um..." It was more than a pleading wail than a thoughtful sound, as Will pushed at the side of her head; trying to figure out what was going on. Cornelia's fingers found the now neatly folded page in her skirt's pocket. As it had turned out, she was right; it was absolutely Caleb. She'd expected to feel as though it was some call of destiny or fate, but she found herself feeling awful.

Cornelia sighed, not looking up from her fingers, "Hay Lin said the walls kept moving... Elyon bricked you right up without air or..."

Cornelia trailed off, never having felt as inadequate in her life. She felt as though there was no option but to ignore it, and turned away to the window once more while Hay Lin fiddled with her backpack which was unusually full, "The walls all went back to normal when I picked up this!"

"Unh..." Even Cornelia's interests had her look up to find Hay Lin had taken the thick book. Will backed away on the bed until she met the wall and pressed herself against it; instantly she'd paled and begun to quiver and Cornelia panicked as Will's eyes became strange; her black pupils wide and unresponsive to the light as she stared manically at the book.

"Will?" Hay Lin chirped, confused. It was Irma who wrenched the book from Hay Lin's grasp, pulling the love seat panel open and throwing it into the empty space; forcefully slamming the wood back into it's place.

Will's head shook and the trance seemed to fade, "What was that! Keep that thing awa- Where did it go?"

Will turned to Taranee on the bed, who shyly raised her shoulders and smiled, "Um... Gone?"


	21. Goodbye (Interlude No2)

The scent from incense is unusually delicate. It dances in dense, heavy clouds of grey, but even the gentlest waft of air carries it away. A wind so faint that no person could detect it, were they not watching for it.

The same wind that can become quick and nimbly, blowing strongly in the Heatherfield cemetery.

At a Chinese funeral, white is the colour of mourning. The flowers and paper ribbons give the illusion of snow, out of season. But there is no need for them in the winter. It wasn't snowing, but it was cold just the same. Frost dusted each blade of grass so that it shimmered in the evening breeze. Will's pensive gaze fell on the frozen dirt, which grew solid as a gentleman's voice droned on with respects of Yan Lin.

Will didn't know the woman. Not really; not at all. The icy chill clawed at her face as her hair blew boisterously in the wind. "It means a lot that you're here."

Will's brown eyes fell to the dainty hand on her elbow, before she looked up to Cornelia's watery smile. She wasn't sure how to respond. Will settled for silence and a small nod, before returning her focus to the grave. Her lip quivered whenever Hay Lin's quiet sobs carried over the ceremony. It hadn't taken long for Will to see that Hay Lin was the only one crying, while most held themselves; only allowing the tears to wobble in their eyes. Mr Lin bent down, catching Will's attention as her chest ached uncertainly. She wanted to leave, because she felt unworthy.

The funeral was huge, even though she'd been told it was a small gathering. She was starting to wonder if people had simply turned up uninvited; an unholy parade of pure white. She fumbled with her dirty white sleeves, considering Hay Lin's father in his pristine suit. His hand fisted as he pulled dirt into his palm, throwing the icy ground over Yan Lin's coffin. The man said something under his breath and the burial commenced. "Will, I'm sorry."

"Could you stop!" Will flushed as those nearest's heads turned. Cornelia's pleading look became withdrawn as Will stared forward, speaking more softly. "For once in your life just stop. This isn't about us."

The violent winds dulled as Will stared forward. Listening to it's wail, because she couldn't find it in herself to listen to the ceremony; it was too personal. The Heart warmed her as it lay against her chest, under her shirt. She could only stand and be and show her respect by being there for Hay Lin. Uncertain of what Yan Lin had gifted her with.


	22. Happy Birthday, Will

**AN: So I'm hoping we've noticed that I've compressed the story. I wanted this chapter to be longer, but I do think it's come to a natural standstill at this point. Please don't be fooled as I mentioned, I've redone the entire of the Will's Birthday segment even if some of it has been kept. Happy reading! - NQN**

The January rain fell in the cold heavy torrents, washing what was left of the picturesque winter that Heatherfield had been having into oblivion and ushering those who braved the numbing slush to hurry past the empty, well lit windows that had previously beckoned shoppers to look in at their engaging arrangements and displays. The lighthearted chatter had been replaced with silence as people passed one another by in the streets; the holiday season had been and departed without hesitation nor warning, and the black inky sky was now merely left obscured by the sharp waterdrops as they assaulted the metropolitan kingdom.

Sheffield Institute one of the few landmark buildings that still defied that hallmark. And yet, the rain did not distinguish this fact: drowning it's proud, elderly walls anyway. "The holidays have long been over, Miss Vandom. I'd hoped you might like to join the rest of the class in 'learning' during my lessons."

"Well, I wouldn't." Will Vandom pouted petulantly, with her chin heavily set in the crook of her elbows and her arms crossed over the desk she was slumped upon. Her dull black pupils gazing forward boredly, half lidded as she pried her eyes open with no real effort. Professor Collins winced; not expecting the retort, but Cornelia assumed it was because he'd thought Will was asleep. Will yawned, blinking and opening her eyes lazily, with no visible intent of sitting up attentively. "Did I miss anything? Oh wait. We all did: everything you teach happened like a hundred years ago!"

The strawberry blonde professor rolled his eyes, his bushy moustache quirking slightly before he walked onward, loudly commenting, "I'm sure your principle will be very pleased to-"

"What! The Principle!?" Will shot from her pose and started when her fist unconsciously hit the desk.

Collins smirked, "So glad to see you're paying attention, Wilhelmina."

Cornelia smiled as Will began sinking back into the desk, cursing into the crook of her elbow once more; this time, however, with her eyes on the professor. A funny sort of relationship seemed to have formed between the professor and Will. Cornelia had taken to noticing more of Will since she had suffered from Elyon's hands. Will was quirky and boisterous, but Cornelia could almost admit she might learn to miss her classes being so frequently...interrupted. Will wasn't vicious so much as agitated and from the dark circles under her eyes it was in History where Will did most of her sleeping. Funny girl... It appeared to be over when Will's body tensed; a shrill tune emitting from her pocket. Cornelia felt a pang of sympathy even to Collins as he sighed and turned around; his hand outspread until Will sullenly threw him the phone, growling when it hit his chest and the man caught it. Beep. Cornelia flinched.

Even Will's resentful glare was replaced with shock when the man pressed his thumb on the receiver, with his eyes darting across the message before he dropped the phone back on Will's desk. "Happy Birthday, Pink Perky Poopy Pumpkin."

Cornelia bit her lip to conceal the smile; the entire class had erupted into laughter. Even Collins grinned with an evil pride as Will moaned, slamming her head into her desk. He walked away with a stride in his step, ignoring the uproar he'd created.

"Oh and Will? Do tell your mother there's no texting in class."

Cornelia pressed her lips shut, focussing down on her paper as the class quietened down and continued on in tormented silence: all better used to Will storming out and leaving Collins in pained reflection or shock over the matter. Everyone knew Will had started turning up after issued visits to the school from Mrs Vandom. But then had come something else and he had started fighting Will back. An entertaining and unexpected clause no one had been counting on was the man having a darker sense of humour than Will. Cornelia risked a glance as Will mimicked hitting her head off the desk, not letting her forehead touch the hard wood or making a sound. She was animate and scrawny, but Will was ironically shy when she gave herself the chance to be.

Nobody knew her really.

Cornelia glanced over the neatly written paragraph that would have pre-Will been an essay by now and turned the page, scribbling furiously.

Not yet.

**...**

"So, you want to throw her a party?" Irma questioned dubiously, as Taranee pulled her own finished homework from the prying hands of the brunette. Cornelia had been adamant enough though, which didn't fit the girl's usual attitude. The redhead in question seemed disheartened by the morning's lessons and had been torn between soup or slop in the lunch queue for several long minutes. Irma shovelled a mouthful of peas into her mouth, ignoring any knowledge of manners she had as she spat through the sludge, "Doth thee wanth one?"

"That was almost archaic." Taranee commented bluntly to the girl beside her who looked perplexed, though most of her focus was on flicking the bit of spit from her shoulder.

Cornelia grinned, "I'd say Neanderthal!"

Taranee flushed, "I meant what she said, not how she was eating!"

"Watch wrong wiff how I'm eathing!?" Irma coughed, choking a little before she swallowed and frowned. Hay Lin giggled melodically, but was quickly stifled by the brunette growling, "Fine! I said: does she want one?!"

"Who knows." Cornelia sighed, pushing her salad from one side of the plate to another. Taranee raised an eyebrow then, as Cornelia flushed at her own gloomy words. There was an awful lot of guilt directing itself toward Will from Cornelia, but Taranee had lost the drive to have any real opinion about it. Will didn't care, or didn't seem to. Then, Taranee tried not to read Will; when the redhead was so easily aware of Taranee's presence in her mind. " Can't one of you guys ask her?"

"Us!?" Hay Lin grinned. Cornelia sighed defeatedly, having had barely managed to force the words out of her mouth. Everyone knew that Cornelia did everything for herself. The girl was very much a poster-girl for the strong woman. Taranee smiled though, opening her mouth to oblige when she was beaten to the punch line. Irma grinned maliciously.

"YO WILL! PINK PERKY POOPY PUMPKIN! OVER HERE!" An outburst of laughter came from where Irma had been directing her voice; rounding her hands around her mouth and standing for a better reception from the redhead. Taranee blushed on the behalf of her older friend; Will growling and baring her teeth from under a thick mop of unruly maroon hair and clutching her lunch tray tensely at the other side of the cafeteria. It appeared that the whole school had been waiting for someone to start this. Alchemy shrieked something, pointing and more laughter erupted around the crimson Will, who pouted beneath her equally red tresses. Taranee felt an empathy for Will's struggle in Heatherfield, but couldn't deny feeling blessed not to be in her position at that moment: the stares did come to her though, when Will scurried towards them, with the laughter following her petite frame as she took a dive into the nearest chair; sinking partially below the table. Irma smiled, "Hey Will, are you having a birthday party?"

Will responded with a menacing glare, whilst muttering something unintelligible beneath her breath and the table. Taranee grinned sheepishly when her brown eyes flit around each of the girls; seeming to realise where she was and whom she was sitting with. She frowned, straightening cautiously, her voice was flat and full of warning. "I would rather die."

"You almost did!" Hay Lin chirped. Will's stoic mask fell and she blushed a little, to which Taranee's smile softened. It had taken a while for Hay Lin to bounce back from her grandmother's death, but it was nice to see her smile all the same. Everyone seemed to feel a little lighter when Will joined them on few and far occasions; everyone except Cornelia. And they pretty much all let Hay Lin say and do what she wanted; not that anyone had ever really bothered chiding her.

Pretty much all of them. Cornelia frowned, "That's not okay to say, Hay Lin."

"I-It's fine." Will was more afraid of the blonde than the reference. Cornelia seemed to dart between hostile and guiltily protective of Will, making everything a little harder. It was nice to be able to have Will around, but Taranee wondered how Will coped with being a guardian on her own. Even with the girls, Taranee felt...alone. They were so different and Will was doing it by herself. Or maybe not... The portals didn't seem to close... Taranee wondered whether Will didn't care or simply hid from her responsibility. Will sighed, crossing her arms on the table and leaning her chin on them. The flatness in her voice returned. "My life is over anyway."

"It's not over!" Cornelia waved at Will's bored words with a smirk, just as she would have anyone. It was strange to see her act like this, but Will tried desperately to hide her discomfort in these situations. She pulled at her fringe anxiously. "It could really be a lot worse..!"

"How exactly?" Will murmured, glancing sideways over her shoulder for the many eyes set on her. Cornelia frowned, trying to think then and Will rolled her eyes.

It was Hay Lin who piped up, "You could get eaten by that snake!"

"I think I'd like to be."

"No way!" Irma spread her arms out widely, shaking her head, "No one wants to be snake poop! Just think how long he'd have to digest you for."

Taranee smirked, leaning towards Irma. "You know, he'd eat you alive too: you'd have to consciously be inside him for like..."

Taranee paused to work out the chemistry of Will's size, squinting at her as she squirmed in her chair and paled visibly. Irma screwed her face up, closing her eyes, "Don't tell me! You sick-"

"Vandom!" Irma's voice became hoarse and the last word intelligible. Taranee found her lungs collapsing and glanced to Will who'd gone completely scarlet. The lunch lady glared from across the cafeteria, waving a dollar and reminding even Taranee that Will had scuttled over without paying for her lunch-slop.

"I'd better go...pay.."

"For that!?" Will smiled shyly as Cornelia turned her nose at the tray, unfolding her own packed meal complete with a warm flask of green tea. Everyone was aware of how Cornelia felt about the school's food standards. Will shrugged away despite this, pulling out her revenge in small change and Taranee heard it hit and roll off the counter just as Cornelia's blonde head turned wildly towards them. "We have to do it!"

"Huh?" Taranee had forgotten what Cornelia was on about.

"The party!" Cornelia smiled brightly, her long lashes fluttering. "I think we should do it!"

The girls found themselves looking to one another with wide, uncertain eyes. Hay Lin was the one to raise a meek finger; pointing out to Cornelia, "But Will didn't want a party?"

"Trust me." Cornelia grinned prettily, an unease growing in Taranee's stomach. "Once Will sees the party we throw her she'll change her mind!"

**...**

The busy corridors running the circuit of the school became empty and idle during classes and at certain points of the lunch hour. This lul was when Will felt most empathy with the endless wide set hallway; the dulled and poorly kept metallic lockers became cold and diligent in standing to attention should anyone pass in these silent times. Will found solace in the place's humble uselessness, sympathising with the pretence that there was some higher purpose than being the means of going somewhere else. She slumped against her own locker door and slid downwards till her tray met her knees, her ass planted firmly on the dirty ground. She muttered absently, frowning into her lunch, "Happy Birthday, pukey."

The saddening fact was how at ease she felt in the proximities. A firm, watchful gaze seemed to be set on her at all times now and Will had simply given up on the idea of leaving or failing to attend at this awful place. In the short space of a few months, Will had the biggest and foulest reputation in Heatherfield, while her mother chittered happily with Will's teachers. Will sighed, pushing the tray aside before pulling her knees against her chest: she wasn't sure she'd ever intended on eating lunch today.

Sometimes it seemed as though she might've too easily discarded her 'magical entourage'.

**...**

It was vast and energetic as it shone over Meridian, a sun, or at least that was what Caleb perceived of the great, beaming orb of flames that lit the Metamoorian sky from the point above the castle's pinnacle. Others claimed it to be the heart of the Queen Weira herself. Caleb saw that Elyon was of Earth in her upbringing so it would not be unnatural for her to imitate the burning star that warmed them there, though Caleb was yet to be certain as to why.

What did go unquestioned was this however: the Light of Meridian had returned.

And it was hot. Incredibly so. With more Meridianites than ever before gracing the daylight of Phobos' era than had ever braved the streets, as though there were a delusion in the heart of the sun that beamed out to them.

Caleb used his hand to deflect it's potent, unflagging rays. He found himself squinting through the wobbly landscape which had climbed to a dangerous heat despite the fact that winter ought to be bitter and cold.

And he wondered if the Prince knew what Elyon was costing them. "I have no real choice, we are going to have to go in blind sighted."

"That...thing never goes down! They'll see us from a mile away!" Aketon pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed in a pained frown in the shadows of the rebellion's entrance. Caleb stood just at the door, with an impassive expression behind his outstretched palm, save for his eyes being in slits due to the bold rays that illuminated his sharp features.

The rebellion was starving in the heat. As townsmen and city dwellers spread their gossip, questioning every aspect of the well known fact: that the Light of Meridian had returned; the city below was running out of supplies and in the light didn't have the manpower to obtain them. It wasn't time, but Caleb knew that his hand was being forced by pure vulnerability. "The Guardians of the Veil have become- capable."

He bit his lip, hoping that his pause would go unnoticed. Whether Aketon had heard it or not, the man sighed, "I'm not sure my faith in you stretches this thinly Caleb. Unorthodox-"

"_Unanticipated_." Caleb countered sternly. But Aketon simply raised an eyebrow, not bowing to the boy's authoritative stance.

"_**Questionable**_ means to fighting Phobos may only show him that you are afraid!"

"I'm not afraid! I am accepting help where it is duly needed!" Caleb ground his teeth together, his brows knitting; a sheet of perspiration covering his forehead due to the heat. "You must learn to appreciate that I intend to win this war, whether your antiquated customs and pride approve of my methods or not!"

"They are women!"

"They don't apply to the category." Caleb rolled his tongue over the back of his teeth, staring out at the harsh, unforgiving sunlight. "A warrior is a person not a man, do not be misogynistic."

"Pfft." Caleb's eyes flit back, but he didn't turn to watch Aketon leave. It wasn't as simple as persuading one man, and calling the guardians capable had been generous.

**...**

"Who?" Cornelia frowned at Andrew's blank expression, though she knew Yan Lin had wiped his memories away. It was still unnerving.

"Irma..._Lair_. You know," Cornelia grimaced at the completely blank expression, not entirely wanting to admit to Irma's most glorifying moment in Sheffield Institute. "_She hacked into the Principle's sound system last year?_"

"Lair on the Air!" The boy grinned wryly, raising his hand to his forehead as he found the fond memory that Heatherfield's youth shared. "What do you need Matt for, you've got the best radio DJ in Heatherfield playing your field!"

Cornelia sighed as he snickered at his own joke, pushing a tress of blonde hair from her ear and glancing out at the disappearing 12th graders usually leaving before anyone else simply because they could on a Friday. She could've gone to Matt directly, had he not been out on free since lunch. Even then she could had phoned him, Cornelia knew. But Andrew Hornby was at the peak of weekender trivia and if there was news to be spread it would be done fastest through his lips. The blonde smiled sweetly, fixing his turned-up collar, as her eyelids fell and lifted rapidly. "Oh please, wont you do this for me Andrew?"

"Hnuh?" Andrew blinked and she pursed her lips, concealing her quiet delight at his dumb expression.

"Great!" Cornelia beamed, rubbing her fingers distastefully as she let go of his poly-blend fibered shirt. As she turned to leave Cornelia paused, catching his hands on his collar, "Oh no, pop-shirt hasn't come back in since it fell out of fashion, Andrew!"

**...**

The stench of the chasm was matchless and Aldarn wasn't certain that Caleb had in fact collected all of his sanity since the moment of leaving for _Earth_. It had been considered that perhaps he was diseased or of general ill health – his peer wasn't in favour of admitting any shortcomings, though despite all of his other strengths Caleb stood a few inches below his rebellion. It wasn't something he seemed trifled by. Caleb bent on one knee, his fingers prizing around a rocky fragment in the deep crevice's lining, slowly detaching it to reveal a tunnelling system at least forty feet beneath the higher ground's surface. Aldarn glanced around himself, out of habit though at least forty of his men were at the ready, though keeping their distance. The only other creatures in the shielded expanse were hoogong birds, and even then Aldarn was anxious enough that as one tilted it's uneducated, flimsy head to look at them atop an oversized neck, Aldarn's fingers grasped tightly to his bow. The tunnel could go on as far as the mountains, and was too tight an enclosure for any rebel to fit within it. "Where is it?"

"Where what?" Aldarn flinched, within a millisecond having had drawn an arrow and pointed it down to his left where the blinking passling stood.

"You." Aldarn turned away, unsupportive of Caleb's regard to the passling. It was barely primal; a creature that survived on it's impotence because no one or thing saw fit to hunt it. A passling was an inedible parasite that threatened nothing other than creatures other than itself that thrived on smelling. Caleb dropped a clean loaf into the grub's welted hands and Aldarn swallowed back saliva as sweat rolled down his forehead. Heat was only the primary cause: the light itself posed as threat and made his palms clammy. And, Aldarn frowned, it wasn't of great help to know that Drake had restlessly opted to lead the distraction. At least, Aldarn reminded himself, it meant that the fool might not be returning.

"Accept deposit!"

"Take me to the Guardians on Earth." Aldarn frowned with his back to his leader. The passling claimed itself a tracker and was hoped to make Caleb's return hasty. "We leave on the hour, passling."


	23. Worlds Apart

**AN: So, forgive me if you're after the goods of a chapter thick with plot, (or even just a thick chapter) especially after all the time I've taken off... I've been under a lot of pressure atm with changing workplace and such so I thought I'd just have some fun with this and add some character development to our cartoon's flattest aspects (and I'm not talking about Will's chest here guys) ;)**

**As usual, happy readings - let us know if you enjoyed it.**

* * *

"This may not have been one of your brightest ideas." Taranee pressed the link between her glasses' lenses up to the very bridge of her nose, eyeing the spacious Vandom household as she muttered to herself doubtfully. No one was really listening as they were all busy either entrancing themselves with Will's hidden wealth or making themselves at home in it. The immaculate flat was full of art and gave off a vibe of some sort of show room - it seemed to feel to Taranee strictly _not lived in_. Or perhaps it was merely the thought of Will living here. Irma supposed it made her a little tense but concluded that Taranee was more or less unhappy with the morality of them 'breaking and entering'. Irma threw one of the oversized fridge's double-doors shut and strode past the dark skinned girl's paling face, letting herself get accustomed to Will's place of residence. It was far, far too nice a house. "This is wrong!"

"The wrong house?"

Irma wasn't surprised. Irma sat back over the arm of the large settee, slumping into the couch cushions. She bit the apple, considering the gravity of knowing someone other than Cornelia who refrigerated their fruit. Cornelia stood with a rigid frame and a hushed voice, "H-her room is bigger than mine..."

Hay Lin tripped over the same piece of rug she had on the way to explore the house and grinned up to the blonde, "But with all that stuff in it you'd never know, right!?"

Irma watched, intrigued as Taranee forcefully tore her blunt nails across her arms, pressing her eyes shut and pacing gently. She presumed the movement was exhausting them both and crunched through the ice-cold mouthful of apple, getting up. "Right, so... Shall we get on with it then?"

Cornelia pouted, glaring at Irma, "I don't think you understand; it's bigger than mine!"

"It's really not that big..."

"She has an en suite! That plus room size equals bigger!"

Irma frowned, trying to picture Will needing that amount of space, "What's it like?"

Cornelia blanched.

"You can't go into someone else's en suite! That's _the _worst form of violation to a person's privacy!" Irma felt her eyes rolling upward, fully aware that Cornelia had spent an excessive portion of her teenagerdom attempting to switch rooms with her mother for the en suite. Although it did pass as odd for Irma to consider Will having one. The brunette could vividly recall Cornelia baring her teeth many times whilst lecturing them on the importance of private hygiene.

_'That extra door leads into a person's personal haven! A sanctuary of-'_

_'Make up?'_

_'Shut up!'_

Irma was knocked out of her daydreaming spell when she was grabbed by Taranee at the shoulders, "What was that!?"

Cornelia's eyes had focused and Hay Lin held her breath. The silence of the presumed empty house was unsettling and Irma sucked in a silent breath before hissing a controlled breath, "I thought you said Will didn't go home!"

Cornelia stuttered, "She went the other way, I..."

"Whatever's making that sound is..." Taranee's lip trembled, her fingers still wrapped around Irma."...not Will. Or her mother."

"Are you sure... I mean..." Hay Lin's small voice was barely a squeak, "Will could be here, right?"

**...**

"Did you know that the full sized python can strangle it's prey to death within only a few minutes."

Will had been gazing down at the coiling figure in the tank when the calm, aged voice came from her side. Will scrunched her nose at the sizeable snake, before rolling her eyes and muttering, "Well that's encouraging... _I'll take him!_"

Her sarcasm not lost, the pet store owner's wrinkled face beamed behind his thick, round lensed glasses. Mr Olsen pushed his pen into the front pocket of his apron before poking her nose gently, "You already have a pet!"

Will's shy grin fell and she found a pink blush creep over her features.

"So... _Matt_ mentioned me?" She shifted awkwardly, growing a steadily darker red, turning back to the python tank simply to have somewhere else to look. The elderly pet store owner himself giving Will a knowing look that she wished she'd missed.

Mr Olsen walked away from Will, catching her attention as he absent mindedly cooed into a birdcage; throwing the words of his shoulder, "Oh yes, my Matthew mentions you from time to time... 'The redhead who packs a mean punch'!"

Will's eyes became glued to his back.

"He did earlier, what with your birthday shindig later on..."

Will didn't have the capacity to berate her glazing eyes and shimmer of a smile that was crossing her lips as the old man winked at her playfully. It took a moment to hit her. "Wait... My what!?"

**...**

"RAT!" Cornelia's scream could curdle milk from the other side of Heatherfield. It was due to this that very suddenly all doubt of being in the vicinity of she and her prestige evaporated. "GET. IT. OUT! IT TOUCHED ME!"

"Hay Lin, you'll kill it! We don't want rat guts everywhere!" Matt grinned quizzically to match his other band member's faces before his smirk fell into a panicked 'O'. Realization seemed to come over the boy along with panic. He slammed his fist heavily against the door, pressing himself and his forehead against the cool surface as though willing it to move.

"Hay Lin! Let me in! I'll get it!" Joel's forehead creased, though he smiled at his friend's likely more gentle approach of ridding the home of pests if given the chance to save them. The door swung open, followed by a shriek and Matt leapt to the place the quadrate of girls were fleeing. All except the Silver Dragon's waitress, 'Hay Lin' who launched at it with a book. "NO!-AIGH!"

The unidentified critter made a narrow escape as the pair smacked their heads directly into one another's. It was certainly bigger than a rat. Matt pressed his palm against his head while Hay Lin jumped up, ready to take another shot at the 'rat'. Matt dizzily peaked at the tiny girl, cunningly stalking her prey; all while Joel's features creased and he silently shook with laughter at the ordeal. "Hay Lin, I think-"

"Shhsht!" Hay Lin's assertive and crazed eyes betrayed her miniature, delicate frame as she shot a look at he and his band mates. Joel straightened, suddenly feeling very vulnerable as he eyed her grip on what was a thick history textbook.

Matt rubbed his head, still sounding wounded as he wheezed, "Hay Lin... That's not a rat! It's her pe- NO! HAY LIN! YOU-"

The small creature leapt to be caught in Matt's arms as Hay Lin fell onto her front, her gaze drawing up the large, quivering mirror that trembled in it's place on the wall just above her. Joel found himself jumping past Matt and forcing himself against it just as it became loose enough to detach from the wall mount. Beneath him, Hay Lin wheezed a high pitch sound. Joel, wondering how he'd been caught up in this mess stared at the offending reason. Matt stared blankly at them; the boy's fingers gently caressing the...dormouse's furry coat. It chittered happily and Matt's features became sternly focused on Hay Lin.

"You can't just go killing other people's pets! Even if this was a rat! You can't just kill it, Hay L-"

"I didn't know you and Will had met." Matt blinked at the only truly familiar face of Cornelia.

Matt shrugged, rolling his eyes, "Can we just get on with this, I thought you said this was urgent?"

Cornelia raised a brow and Matt lamely turned away, placing the dormouse on the floor. Joel's older friend eyed the scenario; complete with television on and half-eaten apple left on the otherwise pristine couch. "S-sorry..."

Joel wondered if anyone intended to help him; the remainder of the band still caught in the doorway to insanity and Matt shaking his head at Cornelia Hale before frowning disapprovingly down to the Chinese girl as she scrambled to her feet, "I'm hoping you've learnt something, Hay Lin."

"Yeah! You know who I am!" Joel struggled to laugh under the strain of holding the mirror as she jabbed Cornelia in the ribs with far too much elbow, "Matt Olsen knows who I am!"

**...**

It was always quiet and every room's size could not be accounted for, tending to be dense with the sweetened scent of the in the gardens below. Gardens that the Prince of Meridian loved: the roses not black exactly, but a softened purple under the harsh winter sunlight. Elyon blurred them into nothing, but the background; her eyes intently focused on the off-white rim of the balcony. The columns were cold where her sun couldn't reach their surface; hard, smooth surface cracked in the curves and corners. Elyon's fingers contemplated the bone and ivory forming this, a warm winter's breeze sweeping by to create a hollow sound in the silence, pulling at her robes and gently tugging her two long twists of hair. The solid bronze rings entangled at the bottom held it still and stationary.

Beyond the vast and tranquil grounds the castle wall divided wealth and poverty. On occasion when Elyon had crossed the border wall between palace and the outer gates she had heard the ongoing chatter of Meridian coming to life. Elyon was now aware that everyone could manipulate shadows, but that it was a talented skill one could neither hold birthright to or simply learn for a person to summon the light by natural means. She would be accomplished in both heritage and knowledge by her coronation. If that was what was to become of her. The heat of the sunlight burned against Elyon's flaxen fringe and she felt her lips mimic smiling: a coy art for participation on of those pretending not to be aware they are being played. Her deep, always purposeful breathing paused to listen to the casual footfalls padding bare against the marble stairs almost silently. Lord Cedric's resounding steps were never naked as he was a punctual and well kept man. This was how Elyon came to conclude it was her brother. Elyon's stern gaze lifted from the balcony to her sun's light. It blinded her and made her foggy eyes water, but gave her purpose. "Phobos."

"Princess," Elyon exhaled then, having intended to probe this matter exactly. She turned while her eyes were still useless.

"I thought you wanted me to call you Phobos."

The white blank spot faded quickly enough for her to see his unmistakable, but somehow incredibly discreet lips quirk into a grin. His eyes were like shallow water and ever-knowing, "You can call me as you wish to."

Elyon didn't feel better when his kindly smile grew.

"You may call me Dionysius if you must, but your mother chose Phobos." Elyon bit her lip. His eyes watched her mouth making it harder not to be drawn into the careless informality the Prince had taken to.

Elyon submitted, straightening her ruler-lined flaxen twists. She turned away being sure not to sound too intrigued by his witticism. People were starving outside, "Who was Dionysius?"

"I'm not sure," he stood beside her and smiled mildly to his gardens. If the prince were to lift his gaze a fraction he might see turmoil and the Metaworld decaying. "The God of wine I believe."

Elyon snorted. "That's rich..."

"Oh he was." Phobos grinned his faultless smile, which was laced with both inausterity and a serene regality he permanently held about him. She ignored her mind looking fondly over the sober prince, though his features fell before he glanced back to her quietly. "But I do not believe you wish me to call you Elyon. Princess."

Elyon found it difficult to feel the warmth of her sun shining down on her. She considered the time that had passed since when she didn't bother considering anything. She was given extensive opportunities to learn intellect and magic alike under Lord Cedric and Miranda's sitting, and for Meridian she had realized she'd have to take advantage of that. Her brother was either a joke or- He was only blood she reminded herself as she smiled sweetly to him never daring to answer his last words.


	24. World's Apart 2 of 2

Will had cursed when she rolled her bicycle onto the grass, condemning herself for cross-cutting the pathway because the party had at some point made it into the dead street below her home before her even getting there. Broken glass from beer bottles was apparently strewn amongst the grass now; what of it hadn't infiltrated her tyres. In any case, for taking the short cut where her flat had clearly marked "Do not walk on the grass.", Will's front wheel was currently punctured and flat. The only plus side being that it had given Will an excuse to feel modish. "Isn't this great!?"

"I am **not** having any fun, Hay Lin." Will scowled, ignoring Hay Lin as her glittery expression faltered. She was quick to perk back up again, however, as Will's flat, ill-humoured tone was one that Hay Lin had become accustomed to. That fact and the closeness required for it was not to Will's pleasure. The redhead's frown darkened as the unsolicited 'friend' to Will's right nudged a glass in her direction. Will couldn't take it anymore. "This is **my** house!"

Hay Lin shone then and Will wondered if it might make the situation seem better if she were to clash her face with something solid. "Yeah! And it's so big! And pretty! And your room-!"

"You _went in my room_!?" The younger girl hadn't yet learnt to recognise the offence or disgust in Will's irked tone and nodded brightly. Will's murky brown eyes rolled bitterly, then widened as she muttered under her breath, "What the hell is wrong with you people..."

But found her eyes lock on Hay Lin to check she'd gone unheard.

"The mix of socialisation and alcohol does it." Will found her back rigid and her eyes level with Cornelia Hale's collar bone. The stunning blonde smiled, her fingers wiggling to Hay Lin who happily squeezed past them before she finally looked down wisely to Will, grinning, "But in Hay Lin's case I think it's just candy she's drinking..."

Will constrained what she could of her irritable grimace, wondering at what point she had taken the drink from Hay Lin. Experimentally she sipped; her face contorting in sickly confusion, Will choked, "Oh God, that's awful!"

"You want coffee?" Will blinked. It was then she realised that indeed Cornelia was cradling a mug in her hands, and it was then that she decided not to follow with a question of who gave Cornelia the authority to root around in her home. Cornelia could do whatever she wanted. Will acknowledged the fact with a look of bewilderment and by simply following the blonde who made her way to the kitchen. It wasn't much quieter, but Will felt more secluded and somehow more vulnerable as Cornelia eyed her. "I don't get it..."

Will didn't speak. She could only manage changing the expression in which she'd been gaping with. Hopefully to one of some form of interest.

Will wasn't sure interest really mattered however, "What were you doing pushing your bike over the grass!?"

Will stared.

"There's a sign right there telling you not to!" Will wasn't sure if she was meant to answer at all.

Not until Cornelia looked questioningly to her. At the point the redhead flushed and shrugged bashfully. "Yeah, but it was dark and it's pretty hard to see I guess..."

Cornelia raised an eyebrow, though Will's eyes were on the sickly drink still in her hands. "You never read it?"

Will looked up, "No, I didn't think anyone would catch me."

It was an odd sensation, hearing Cornelia laughing, "You were shouting and swearing like a foghorn!"

Passion flooded into Will as she became fierce, "They broke my bicycle!"

"Oh Will." Brown eyes became caught by Irma's salty expression. "Please shut up about your bike and enjoy the party!"

**...**

"Where's this then?" The season had become what it should in Heatherfield. Caleb welcomed the crunch to the grass and the galling winds that were now lost to his Netherworld. He felt more hydrated just by being here, though his first move had been to fall knee-deep into the ocean. Water was fairly scarce in Meridian with all of the sunlight. All that failed to evaporate above ground was the Kaithim.

Caleb frowned, critically scaling the height of the building before them. The pungent guide who'd led him's arms flew up excitedly, "Girl's house!"

Caleb breathed, he was aware that he'd yet to know all of their residences. Caleb sucked in the cool and welcome winter air, though it cut mercilessly against his bare arms, "Taranee's..."

"No!" Blunk grinned and Caleb found himself unsettled by the answer. He'd been everywhere.

"No Blunk!" Caleb growled knocking the passling's over-enthusiastic head with a backhand. He'd been conned and Caleb had been too naive to see it. "That's not what I paid for!"

"Girls. Upstairs." Caleb felt downcast by that. Of course they had friends and relatives. Maybe it wasn't a con. He wasn't about to act apologetic however.

"Well then. _You_ go get them."

**...**

The party seemed to be eternally ongoing regardless of her efforts to bring it's conclusion, and Will had long since given up on winning the battle between her and Heatherfield's youth for her residence. Instead she'd retreated; taking with her a mug of coffee that Will hadn't particularly desired, and her dormouse that had very nearly been trampled and had somehow ended up finding sanctuary outside her apartment in the well-lit stairwell leading down to the lobby. Will pushed a strand of crimson red behind her ear and sighed. "Somehow, I didn't really think that it was entirely selfless of Cornelia to throw this shindig..."

Will felt a gentle brush of rose tint her cheeks, but was too morose for any real reaction. As Mr Olsen's grandson climbed a few stairs to join her sitting there, Will felt something irritate her within her stomach. Will shook her head, feeling her disobedient hair falling unevenly from it's already hideous position. Will fingered the wallpaper sullenly, her voice animate with sarcasm, "Really? What gave you that idea!?"

"Sorry..." Will looked up then, flushing with embarrassment at his guilty tone. Matt shrugged, his dark eyes set on her apologetically.

"No... I'm sorry, I-" A wave of nausea hit Will as her throat closed and she found herself gagging discreetly. There was no questioning the scent and Matt's eyes widened as he moved to peer down the lower hallway. "Matt!"

He looked up and Will blushed, cringing as she yanked his wrist and began retreating up the hallway. A voice she didn't wish to recognise echoing up the halls.

"We should go inside!" Matt frowned, but Will didn't let go of her grip on him. She pulled tightly, until eventually her strength seemed to have some effect on him. Will grinned through her blistering, red-hot complexion. "I just needed some air! I'm fine now! You want a drink? I'm so thirsty and- coffee!? Who drinks coffee at a party? Right!? Well let's just-"

Matt took a single step into her home and Will pulled the door shut grabbing the handle and holding it up tightly. She turned with her entire face contorted in strained resentment. Blunk stood before her with a grin on his face.

"What do you want, ugly?"

"Blunk ugly?" Will growled at the critter's pained expression and voice. She forced a rigid grin. She couldn't have used a more bittersweet expression.

"_**Nooo**_, Blunk! I just wanted to know what brought you to the neighbourhood this fine evening!"

**...**

"**_Caleb_**?" The passling creature nodded enthusiastically to her sharp understanding, unconcerned as to why the red haired girl's interest had changed. In their short life-spans it was uncommon for a passling to be regarded and indulged in active conversation by those higher above them in the food chain. Which included, well, everything considered to have 'life'. But Blunk was getting rather used to acknowledgement. After all Caleb appeared to be well known in Meridian and was fairly insistent that Blunk returned to their meeting place frequently. When Blunk forgot, Caleb sent rebels out to find him.

The red haired girl frowned down at Blunk suspiciously, though passlings other than Blunk would not know any alternative expression. Blunk yelped as nimble, human fingers found his shirt collar; grasping it tightly with no fears for the disease a passling carried. It was startling to Blunk to be forcefully yanked so close to this being's nose. It wrinkled in disgust, but the red haired girl seemed to ignore his protective scent. Blunk swallowed, forcing out and stumbling over rushed words, "Yes, yes! Girls! Caleb want girls!"

"The girls?" Blunk cautiously pulled at his shirt as her grip loosened, but the red haired girl's thoughtful stance was short lived and Blunk forced a grin to disguise his unease when the human leaned closely again, sending the passling a menacing glare before eying Blunk's leathery, mould-coloured skin. "What does he want them for?"

The red haired girl bore her teeth growling in what might've been agitation, but regardless Blunk's facade fell then. Thick, putrid perspiration threatened to ooze from the passling who quivered; avoiding her placid skin as he steadily tugged with more and more aggression for his collar, "Big..mission..! Need to know! Don't...need know!"

"Will **do** need know!" Blunk was being dragged back every time he pulled away, though her struggle was as strained as Blunk's. "And...you're...gonna... Tell me!"

Blunk cried out at the shock of his body being slammed against the cool floor; her elbow pressed into his back expertly.

**...**

The night's air was quickly dropping in temperature. Not that it wasn't a pleasant sensation for the rebel leader, who'd spent days in a blistering sun's rays. It was quiet in Heatherfield. Caleb had never until now found a form of winter he could so easily appreciate. The gentle breeze hit the back of his neck and slid down his collar; the sticky sensation of sweat and discomfort replaced by the wind's kisses. It wasn't so late, but the early sky seamlessly resembled nightfall.

In the silence Caleb sighed, leaning his head back on the wall surrounding the girls' destination. It was peaceful at least.


End file.
